


Herald and Commander, Part Three: He Feels Like Quiet

by ButterflySunrider



Series: Herald and Commander: A Romance in Four Parts [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bromance, Cullenlingus, Drug Withdrawal, Epic, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Headcanon, Love Triangles, M/M, Plot Exposition Has To Go Somewhere, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Starring Everybody Really, True Love, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-09 11:42:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 64,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3248408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButterflySunrider/pseuds/ButterflySunrider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisition is becoming a family, and like every family, they have their unique struggles. After Halamshiral, Cullen finds his struggle with lyrium withdrawal to be almost unbearable and Ellana has to help him choose between a painful hope and a numb despair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wild is the Wind

Cullen had been very quiet the entire way back from Halamshiral. Quiet and distant. He hardly even looked at her. In fact, the person he made eye contact with the most was Cassandra. Ellana found herself wondering whether she’d done something wrong. 

He’d told her that he wasn’t upset about the dress, and besides, Celene’s people were cleaning and repairing it specially for her. Was he jealous about her dance with the duchess? Was he upset about the soldiers Florianne killed? Whatever it was, he didn't want to talk about it. He just waved her off.

Ellana started to suspect that it wasn't just moodiness Cullen was plagued with when he stopped coming to her room at night. All they ever did together in her bed was sleep, maybe some kissing, but nothing too intense. She found it difficult to sleep without him holding her, without resting her head on his chest and listening to his heartbeat. As she tossed and turned, Ellana resolved to talk to Cullen in the morning, and to insist on answers.

~~~

Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his book. When he opened his eyes, Cole was standing there, causing him to nearly jump out of his seat. “You are hurting. Hurting her. The ring jostled against the coin in your pocket all the way back from Halamshiral, both defining you, both you long to give to her like you want to give yourself to her. But you didn't. Why?”

Cullen shook his head and sighed. “The moment was gone.”

“Is your love for her gone too?” Cole asked. “Did it slip through your fingers like moonlight in a garden?”

“Of _course_ not! I—I wanted the moment to be perfect. She deserves no less,” Cullen replied.

Cole tilted his head. “How can you ever come together while you each put the other on pedestals? An idol cannot embrace. An idol cannot love. Do you think her made of stone?” Cole circled around behind Cullen. “She still sees your shining armor when she looks at you. As long as it is your armor that she sees, she will worship and adore you. But if you want her love, you have to let her see... _you_. Show her you are not made of steel, but flesh and blood.”

Cullen turned around, but Cole was gone. Was he losing his mind? He was going to have to talk to Cassandra in the morning. This was just...too much.

~~~

Ellana arrived in Cullen’s office to find that he was gone. “Inquisitor?” asked one of his soldiers. “If you’re looking for the Commander, he’s gone to speak with Seeker Pentaghast.”

Her eyes widened. Things were beginning to make sense. Hadn't he said something earlier about Cassandra watching him? And he kept looking over at her the whole way back, with a miserable, uncomfortable expression on his face. Oh, no. Had the day she had feared finally come to pass?

She ran to where Cassandra would normally be practicing. Not there. Her heart began to race.

Finally she opened the door to the armory, where Cullen and Cassandra were arguing fiercely.

“Would you rather save face than admit—” Cullen stopped, mortified, when he saw Ellana walk through the door.

There was a moment of incredibly awkward silence, until Cullen abruptly left the room, whispering “Forgive me,” to Ellana as he did so.

Before he was even out the door, Cassandra crossed her arms and snapped in his direction, “And people say _I’m_ stubborn. This is ridiculous!”

Cullen slammed the door behind him without another word.

The Seeker sighed and looked at Ellana, “Cullen told you that he’s no longer taking lyrium?”

Ellana nodded, wiping her sweating palms on her robes. “Yes, and I respect his decision.”

“As do I, not that he’s willing to listen,” said Cassandra. “Cullen has asked that I recommend a replacement for him.”

Ellana felt her knees give way, and she grasped onto a nearby crate for support. There were a lot of frightening things that she encountered in her day-to-day life; assassins, dragons, demons, all of them out to kill her, but the only thing that terrified her was the thought of losing Cullen. That she could not bear. Cassandra lifted Ellana’s arm across her shoulders and boosted her back up to her feet. “I probably should have told you to sit down first. Are you all right?”

Ellana looked at Cassandra. “Not really, no. But tell me what you have to say. The problem isn't going to get fixed unless we talk about it.”

Cassandra nodded. “Well, you’ll be happy to know that I refused. It’s not necessary. Besides, it would destroy him, he’s come so far.”

“So that’s what’s been bothering him. I wish he’d told me,” Ellana replied as she stood on her own power again.

“We had an agreement long before you joined us,”Cassandra explained. “As a Seeker, I could evaluate the dangers. And he wouldn't want to...risk your disappointment.”

“Risk...my _disappointment_? How disappointed did he think I’d be if he just disappeared one day, forever, with no explanation? Oh, Cullen _you_...UGH!”

As she screamed in frustration, a bolt of lightning erupted from Ellana’s body and blew the armory door right off it’s hinges, shattering it into splinters. She turned to look at Cassandra, blue sparks still percolating from her chest and flowing down her arms to the floor. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I’m a _little_ upset.”

“I don’t blame you,” said Cassandra. She walked over and opened her arms to Ellana, but the smaller woman flinched. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Ellana explained.

“I am not afraid,” Cassandra replied, and gave Ellana a hug.

It wasn't comfortable, due to the armor the Seeker wore, but the gesture was comforting all the same. “What do we do?”

Cassandra stroked Ellana’s hair. “If anyone can change his mind, it’s you. Mages have made their suffering known, but Templars never have. They are bound to the Order, mind and soul, with someone always holding their lyrium leash. Cullen has a chance to break that leash, to prove to himself—and anyone who would follow suit—that it’s possible.” She pulled away and fixed Ellana with a serious look. “He can do this. I knew that when we met in Kirkwall. Talk to him. Decide if now is the time.” 

Cassandra stepped back and smirked. “And try not to blow up any doors around him. I hear that sort of thing makes him uneasy.”

~~~

_Why do I still have it? It’s not like it brings back wonderful memories. There is no nostalgia attached to it, why? All this time, had I, in the back of my mind, never truly believed that I could stop_?

Cullen stared at his lyrium kit, roared in anger, and threw it away in disgust without looking, causing it to shatter against the door.

Ellana shrieked.

He looked up at her, absolutely horrified at what he’d done. “Maker’s Breath! I didn't hear you enter. I—”

Ellana closed and opened her eyes slowly, then held up her hand. “You almost got me there. Three inches to the right, and you’d be carrying me to the infirmary again.” She laughed. “Just like old times,” she sighed.

Her attempt at humor was not helping. Cullen shook his head. “I didn't see you there, I swear! Forgive me.”

“You keep saying that. _Forgive me_ ,” Ellana whispered. “Cullen, talk to me, _please_. Stop pushing me a—”

“You don’t have to—” Cullen began, before weakness overtook him and he caught himself by grasping his desk for support. “I never meant for this to interfere.”

Ellana walked over to Cullen’s desk, sat down, and wrapped her arms around him, helping him to stand again. “Are you going to be all right?” she asked.

He wouldn't look at her. “Yes. Ugh, I don’t know.” Then he grabbed her wrists and abruptly ended their embrace, before stalking across the room from her like a caged animal. “You asked what happened at Ferelden’s Circle. And when I wouldn't tell you, you found a book about it, read it, and then threw what you learned back in my face. Was it... _stimulating_ reading, Inquisitor? Were you curious about the lurid details of the torture I went through at the hands of the Desire demon? I’m afraid the report Greagoir wrote was rather dry and impersonal, but if you want something more salacious, I could oblige you. I could show you every scar, tell you which one of my friends was being killed in front of me when it happened, what filth the demon whispered in my ear while she gashed my skin with her claws. Is that what you—” Cullen stopped when he looked up and saw Ellana trembling, her face drenched with tears and flushed in embarrassment.

“Go on,” Ellana said softly. “You've been needing to get this out for a while now, I think.”

Cullen took a deep breath. “They tried to break my mind, and I—how can you be the same person after that? Still, I wanted to serve. They sent me to Kirkwall. I trusted my Knight-Commander and for what? Hmm? Her fear of mages ended in madness. Kirkwall’s Circle fell. Innocent people died in the streets. Can’t you see why I want nothing to do with that life?”

At this point, Ellana realized that everything Cullen was saying, he wasn't really saying to her. He was saying it to himself. He needed to hear the words, to remember that all those things were real, to lance the boil and draw out the poison before it killed him. To remind himself why he wanted to stop.

“Of _course_ I do,” Ellana began, “and I—” 

“ _Don’t_!” Cullen shouted, “You of _all_ people should be questioning what I've done.” His voice began to break in misery and despair. “I thought this would be better—that I would regain some control over my life. But these thoughts won’t _leave_ me…” He paced back and forth. “How many lives depend on our success? I swore myself to this cause...to _you_.” His voice grew more agitated as he went on. “I will _not_ give less to the Inquisition than I did the Chantry. I should be taking it!”

Cullen struck his bookcase with his fist, sending books tumbling to the floor.

“I should be taking it,” he whispered.

“ _Fuck_ the Inquisition,” said Ellana. “For once in your life, Cullen, do something for yourself. Is taking lyrium again really what YOU want?”

He stared at her, then exhaled and uncurled his fist. “No. But...these memories have _always_ haunted me—if they become worse, if I cannot endure this…”

Ellana reached up and caressed his face. “You _can_.”

Cullen exhaled. “All right.” He bit his lip. “Could you...I’d like to be...alone right now.”

It stung, but Ellana nodded, kissed the corner of his mouth, and left. There was work to do.

~~~

Cullen looked down and found a note on his desk. He had begun to recognize Cole's scrawl. "That boy..." he whispered to himself, and opened the letter:

"Uldred marked you, but didn't make you. You stayed you…The center never changed, kept safe like a coin in your pocket.”


	2. Fasten and Release

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vivienne offers Cullen some friendly advice.

Madame de Fer marched into Cullen’s office and tossed the smallclothes onto his desk.

"What in Andraste's name is that and why is it on my desk?" asked Cullen, his voice pitching higher with each successive word. 

"It is, my darling Commander, my contribution to the morale of the Inquisition," answered Vivienne coolly. 

"Contribution to morale?" Cullen balked. "Are you suggesting we budget for expensive smallclothes for the soldiers to wear under their uniforms? Because that is _ridiculous_."

Vivienne raised an imperious eyebrow at him. "Pick it up."

"I'm not picking it up," retorted Cullen.

"It's brand new, Commander. Never been worn, perfectly clean."

"That's...not it," he stammered and looked away, embarrassed. "Please explain what the elaborate lacy undergarments have to do with morale."

"You're a virgin," Vivienne said. "Aren't you? You've taken fortresses and towers and territories but never a woman."

His blush, and his inability to meet her eyes was enough to confirm Vivienne's suspicions. Her smile was surprisingly warm and gentle as she continued. "You're _adorable_ , my dear. I can see why she is so in love with you. For your information, Ellana wears something similar to this under her mage robes every day of the week."

_But it's so impractical_! “...why?”

"The same reason why she was only too happy to take advantage of the services of my tailor in Val Royeaux. Wearing pretty things makes her feel desirable. And she wants you...to desire her." 

“I _can’t_ ,” he whispered.

Vivienne raised an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

“Maker knows I _want_ to, but…” Cullen trailed off.

“It’s the lyrium, isn’t it?” she whispered. Noting his expression of concern, she added, “Nobody told me, Commander, if that’s what you’re thinking. But I didn't get to be the Enchanter to the Imperial Court without learning a thing or two about lyrium’s dangers to mages and templars alike. Still. At this point you should be nearly past the worst of it. Theoretically of course, as this has never been done before. So. You are not ready yet? This creates an opportunity for you.”

Vivienne crossed behind the desk and put a gentle hand on Cullen's shoulder. "When the time _does_ come, it would be best that you not be intimidated by the extraneous details of making love to a woman. You don't want to be so distracted that you...lose the moment."

"So...what am I supposed to do with this?" Cullen asked.

"Practice, Commander! Open and close, fasten and release. Like your armor, but with a more delicate touch." Madame de Fer turned on her heel and walked towards the door but stopped before exiting. "Before you...take her...you should feel confident in your ability to get her out of and back into her clothes. A happy Inquisitor and a confident Commander make a strong Inquisition. That is my gift to you, my dear. You can take it or leave it."

And with that, she swept out of the room.


	3. Demands of the Qun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Qunari offer an unprecedented alliance with the Inquisition, but at what cost?

“You didn't have to send me a fruit basket, Dorian,” Ellana said as she bit into an apple.

“Don’t be daft, my love. It was my pleasure,” replied Dorian. Truth be told, the fruit basket was the only order he hadn't been able to cancel in time before it was shipped. He and the other members of the Inner Circle had pooled their resources and purchased just shy of a score of gifts to celebrate an engagement that bafflingly did not happen. “Another strawberry please?”

Ellana smiled and popped a small red fruit into Dorian’s mouth. 

“Bull loves these,” he continued. “Especially with a fine sparkling white wine. You’d never know it to look at him, but his tastes are quite...sophisticated.” He saw Bull practicing with Krem from a distance and sighed, “I’d love to watch him and Cullen play chess.”

“ _Naked_ ,” added Ellana.

They both burst out laughing and were close enough in range that Bull heard them. “Now, now. Only _I_ get to laugh at Krem’s complete lack of form!”

Krem dropped his guard and greeted them with a subtle nod and a smile. “Ah, your Worship!”

“Glad you came by,” added Bull. “I got a letter from my contacts in the Ben-Hassrath. Already verified it with Red.”

Ellana could practically feel Dorian stiffen next to her. “Do you...want to talk about this in private, Bull?” she asked, wanting to give Dorian and Krem an out from having to listen to them talk business. 

Bull shook his head. “It’s not like I've been hiding it from them,” Bull replied. “Besides, right now, I need to hit something.”

“And that’s _my_ cue to leave,” Dorian remarked. He stalked off towards Cullen’s office.

“You know they've got training dummies, chief!” snapped Krem.

“The training dummy might actually defend itself against the shield bash!” Bull retorted as he watched Dorian walk away. “Anyway, the Ben-Hassrath letter…”

Ellana crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow at Bull. It was part of their deal, something she accepted about him from the very beginning, that his loyalties were divided, but that didn't mean she _liked_ it. “What. Does the letter say,” she said quietly. The words were innocuous. The tone was not.

“The Ben-Hassrath have been reading my reports,” Bull answered. “They don’t like Corypheus or his Venatori. And they _really_ don’t like red lyrium.”

_Oh, so the Qunari secret police don’t like a substance that people ingest that messes with their minds and turns them into near-invulnerable monsters of destruction with no free will_? _Probably because they didn't think of it first_.

“They’re ready to work with us. With _you_ , Asaaranda. The Qunari and the Inquisition, joining forces.” The words were optimistic, but the tone was not.

_The Qunari and the Inquisition. Sharing an army. Military secrets. Access to Southern Thedas..._

“If it is truly an alliance they seek, then it would be a powerful one indeed,” Ellana replied diplomatically.

“My people have never made a full-blown alliance with a foreign power before,” said Bull. “This would be a _big_ step.” He turned back to Krem, and gestured for him to start practicing again. “They've found a massive red lyrium shipping operation out on the Storm Coast.”

“They wanted us to hit it together,” Krem added. “Talked about bringing in one of their dreadnoughts. Always wanted to see one of those big warships in action.” 

Distracted, Krem was blocked by Bull again. “Did you see _that_? Go get some water!” Bull scolded, then turned to Ellana. “They’re worried about tipping the smugglers, so no Army. My Chargers, you, maybe some backup.”

“Curly’s not going to like that,” Ellana mumbled. “What does this alliance really get us?”

“They wouldn't use _alliance_ if they didn't mean it,” Bull replied. “Naval power. More Ben-Hassrath reports. Qunari soldiers pointed at the Venatori..it could do a _lot_ of good.”

“I’m hearing a ‘but’,” said Ellana.

“No, I’m good. It’s, uh...I’m used to them being...over _there_. It’s been awhile.” 

It seemed as though Bull was as apprehensive about this situation as she was. Ellana reasoned that they may as well go be apprehensive together. But first… “I thought Qunari wanted to extend their reach to the whole world,” she said with just the slightest touch of mockery in her voice. She wasn't sure whose tactics she was using, Bull’s, Leliana’s, or Cullen’s. But she could tell she was using something to nurture those seeds of doubt that had sprung up in her friend.

“Yeah,” Bull said, betraying an uncharacteristic amount of trepidation. “Just didn't think I’d _see_ it.”

They both fell silent. Ellana remembered the first conversation she’d had with Bull when he first came to Haven. She had asked him what would happen to their companions were all of Thedas to fall to the Qun. He’d said, “Some folks, like Cassandra or Cullen, would do fine...if they didn't die fighting. Those two love rules. But the mages...Can you imagine Solas doing his Fade-dreaming under the Qun or Vivienne doing her political bullshit? Both Sera and Varric would mouth off until they ended up reeducated—drugged until their minds broke.” He hadn't met Dorian yet, but from what Ellana could comprehend, Dorian likely would have been put to death. He would have never stopped fighting. Plus he was Tevinter.

She had a feeling that Bull was remembering the exact same thing. “Look,” he said, “the Qun answers a _lot_ of questions. It’s a good life for a lot of people. But it’s a _big_ change. And a lot of folks here wouldn't do so well under that kind of life.” He made a gesture that looked like shrugging, but the crackling noise that emanated from his neck and shoulders told her otherwise. “I guess it’s not like we’re converting. This is just us joining forces against Corypheus. On that front, I think we’re good.”

“If you say so, Bull. I’m putting a lot of trust in you with this,” Ellana said before turning and walking back towards the court. Before ascending the stairs, she stopped and looked over at Cullen’s tower. She longed to talk to him about it, tell him her troubles, but with everything he was going through, it just felt selfish. But selfish or no, she could not shake the feeling of abject loneliness, the terrible sensation of ice water running through her heart.

~~~

The walk back to her room had been interminable. When she arrived, she found Cole sitting on her desk. “You were hoping for someone else, some _thing_ else,” he whispered.

Ellana laughed bitterly as she sat down on her bed and slipped her boots off. “Oh, Cole. You have _no_ idea how right you are.”

“He is quiet, behind the noise. The little bottle makes him shake, but he tests the chains.” he said, walking towards her. “Your nightmares of the future have returned and he is not there to chase them away. You could not embrace him fully as you said goodbye, the lyrium making a jagged wall between you. The same wall you feel growing between you in this world.”

Thunder shook the building. Cole sat down next to her and gently added, “All of Skyhold feels the tears you will not let yourself shed. It rains because you are sad, Stormbringer.”

Ellana balled up her fists at her sides. “No. I’m being selfish. I have to think about what’s best for everybody. The Inquisition needs a strong Commander. I have to give him time. Give him space. He can’t be bothered. I musn’t—”

The wind rattled the windows and began to snap branches off the trees as it screamed through the courtyard. Hail began to beat against the stones, chipping away at them. Cole tentatively reached out to Ellana and laid his hand on her back.

She burst into tears and the storm outside abruptly died as Ellana collapsed onto her bed and curled up into a ball. Eventually, she cried herself to sleep, with Cole stroking her hair and sitting with her in silence.

~~~

It did not take long for the arrangements to be made. Less than a week later, they arrived at the Storm Coast. Dorian and Cole joined Ellana, Bull, and the Chargers as they waited for Bull’s contact to arrive. Dorian did not stop making his displeasure known. 

Could not stop.

“I wonder if they’re going to try to kill me on sight,” he grumbled. “That’s _usually_ what happens when our people meet.”

“I told you, this is an alliance. Everyone in the Inquisition is safe from harm,” replied Bull, sounding irritated and unsure of himself.

“I just find it _fascinating_ that the Qunari secret police don’t like a substance that messes with people’s minds and turns them into monsters with no free will. Probably just upset they didn't think of it first,” he snapped. “Oh, wait!”

Ellana turned sharply to look at him but said nothing. Instead she turned to Cole, who just shrugged.

Bull growled.

Dorian did not spare Ellana his disappointment either. “The Qunari and the Inquisition! Sharing an army, military secrets, access to Southern Thedas. What a _smashing_ idea, my love! What could _possibly_ go wrong?”

“Cole…” Ellana mumbled.

Bull looked up at the sky, doing his best to ignore Dorian's barbs. “Our Qunari contact should be here at any moment to meet us.”

“He is,” replied a voice. He was an elf. “Good to see you again, Hissrad.”

“Gatt!” Bull exclaimed cheerfully.

“Gatt?” asked Ellana. “The same Gatt—”

“That sent you the chocolates, yes,” he replied. “You’re rising up in the world, Herald of Andraste. Or should I call you Lady Inquisitor?”

“I just call her Asaaranda,” Bull said with a proud smile. “No change in rank can take that away.”

“ _Thunderstorm_ , eh?” Gatt asked, as he handed her another box. “Chaotic. Unpredictable. Not attributes that are desirable under the Qun.”

Bull’s smile faded. 

Gatt continued, “Did your Commander enjoy the chocolates, _Asaaranda_?”

“He ate almost the entire box, thank you,” she answered. “I take it this is chocolate as well?”

“Well, it’s not blackpowder,” Gatt replied. His smile didn't reach his eyes.

Ellana busied herself with putting the box into her pack.

“Gatt and I worked together in Seheron,” Bull explained.

“Hissrad’s reports say you’re doing good work,” Gatt offered.

Ellana crinkled her eyebrows. “Your title is Hissrad?” she asked.

“Because of my secret work,” Bull replied. “You can translate it as ‘Keeper of Illusions,’ or…”

“Liar,” Gatt interrupted. “It means Liar.”

“Well, you don’t have to say it like _that_ ,” snapped Bull.

Ellana cleared her throat. “It’s so nice to hear friends say good things about me in their secret spy reports!”

“He does.” Gatt replied. “But they aren't really secret, _are_ they?”

“Look, Gatt,” Bull began apologetically.

“Relax!” Gatt assured him. “Unlike our superiors, I know how it works out here.”

Ellana found herself wondering why he’d brought it up in the first place if it didn’t bother him.

“If it’s not a big deal,” snapped Dorian, “Why did you bring it up in the first place? Is passive-aggressive behavior one of the tenets of the Qun?”

Ellana began massaging her temples. Were her thoughts leaking somehow? This sort of thing used to happen with her brother quite frequently, but this was the first time something like this had occurred with someone who wasn't her own flesh and blood.

“You should put a muzzle on your Vint,” Gatt began.

“I suppose that’s better than having my tongue cut out,” Dorian retorted.

“Enough!” shouted Ellana. Lightning struck a nearby tree. She pointed at Gatt. “You came here to talk business, then let’s talk business. Stop wasting my time or the deal is off!”

Gatt took a deep breath. “Our...dreadnought is safely out of view, and out of range of any Venatori mages on shore. We’ll need to eliminate the Venatori, then signal the dreadnought so it can take out the smuggler ship.”

Ellana started digesting the plan in her head, then turned to Bull. “What do you think of this plan?”

He grunted. “Don’t know. Never liked covering a dreadnought run. Too many ways for crap to go wrong. If our scouts underestimate enemy numbers, we’re dead. If we can’t lock down the Venatori mages, the ship is dead. It’s... _risky_.”

Ellana nodded. This trepidation was coming from someone who had no qualms facing down a dragon.

“Riskier than letting red lyrium into Minrathous?” Gatt taunted.

Ellana sighed. “We’re here. Let’s just do this already.”

Gatt replied, “My agents suggested two possible locations the Venatori might be camped to guard the shore.” He pointed in two opposite directions. “We’ll need to split up and hit both at once.”

“The Lion advances pieces on a chessboard. He can see all the moves and knows which gambits end in loss,” whispered Cole.

Ellana’s stomach sank. She wished she’d at least asked Cullen to accompany them. even if he’d declined, he could have offered her some valuable insight. She may not have needed an army for this mission, but she found herself needing _him_.

Bull laid a hand on Ellana’s shoulder. “I’ll come with you, Asaaranda. Krem can lead the Chargers. I’m going to go tell him the plan. Let me know when you’re ready.”

After a few minutes of standing in awkward silence with Dorian, Cole, and Gatt, Ellana decided she’d had enough. She approached Bull, still talking with his Chargers.

“...just pay attention, all right? The Vints want this red lyrium shipment bad.”

“Yes, I know.” Krem smirked. “Thanks, _Mother_.”

“Qunari don’t _have_ mothers, remember?” Bull retorted.

Krem straightened. “We’ll be fine, Chief!”

“All right, Chargers!” exclaimed Bull. “Horns up!”

“Horns up!” they repeated.

“I’m ready, Bull,” Ellana said.

~~~

As Ellana, Bull, Dorian, Cole, and Gatt made their way to their destination, Gatt scoffed. “You gave your Chargers the easier target.”

“You _think_?” Bull asked.

“Lower and farther from the smugglers’ ship? It’s much less likely to be heavily defended,” Gatt replied.

“Suppose we’ll do the heavy lifting then,” Bull countered. “Just like old times.”

They soon arrived at the Venatori camp and quickly laid waste to those who were stationed there. Ellana breathed a sigh of relief. _Perhaps this will not be as bad as I’d feared_.

“We’re clear, Gatt,” said Bull.

“Right,” Gatt replied. “Signaling the dreadnought.”

Bull smiled proudly. “Chargers already sent theirs up. See ‘em down there?”

“I _knew_ you gave them the easier job,” said Gatt.

A bell rang in the distance. Through the mist, Ellana could just barely make out the shape of a great black ship. 

“There’s the dreadnought!” Bull exclaimed. “That brings back memories.”

The dreadnought fired on the Venatori ship, easily sinking it.

Bull laughed. “Nice one!” and then he looked down at the opposite shore. “Crap.”

About a dozen Venatori mages were making their way up the coastline. Ellana followed his gaze and then turned to him. “Call a retreat. If you don’t move the Chargers, they will all die!”

“Yeah…”

“Your men need to hold that position, Hissrad,” Gatt ordered.

“They do that, they’re _dead_.” Bull replied.

“And if they don’t, the Venatori retake it and the dreadnought is dead. You’d be throwing away an alliance between the Inquisition and the Qunari! You’d be declaring yourself Tal-Vashoth!”

Bull snarled at Gatt but said nothing.

Gatt continued, “With all you've given the Inquisition, half the Ben-Hassrath think you've betrayed us already! I stood up for you, Hissrad! I told them you would _never_ become Tal-Vashoth!”

“They’re _my_ men.” Bull growled.

“I know,” Gatt replied. “But you need to do what’s right for everyone, Hissrad. For this alliance...and for the Qun.”

Bull looked at Ellana. “Asaaranda?”

Dorian grabbed her hand from behind and squeezed. They didn’t need words to know what the other one was thinking. “Call the retreat,” she ordered.

“Don’t!” cried Gatt, but Bull had already put the horn to his lips. Out came the sound that would save the Chargers and doom the dreadnought.

“They’re falling back,” Bull replied defiantly.

“All these years, Hissrad, and you throw away all that you are. For what? For this? For them?” he gestured menacingly at Dorian and Ellana.

Ellana growled and the Anchor glowed threateningly in her hand. “His name...is _Iron Bull_.”

“I suppose it _is_ ,” Gatt retorted and walked away. Ellana could swear she heard Dorian sigh in relief.

Below them, the Venatori mages began to shoot fireballs at the dreadnought.

“Well, shit.” Ellana said.

“No way they’ll get out of range. Won’t be long now,” Bull noted.

“Bull,” Ellana asked, “when the dreadnought sinks—”

“Sinks?” Bull interrupted. “Qunari dreadnoughts don’t sink.”

The ensuing explosion knocked Ellana back into Dorian. Luckily he was there to catch her.

Bull leaned over and helped Dorian get Ellana to her feet. “Come on, let’s get back to my boys.”

~~~

The alliance was called off. Ellana considered it a blessing from the Gods that the Qunari did not consider her actions to be an act of war. But Bull was indeed declared Tal-Vashoth, and he was cut off from any remaining intelligence out of Seheron.

That night, Ellana and Dorian sat in the library, side by side on the floor in the dark, their backs against a bookcase.

“You know what I felt when that dreadnought blew up, my love?” Dorian asked. “Relief. I suppose that makes me a terrible person. Selfish. Gatt was right. Bull was throwing away everything he was in that moment. What’s left, I wonder?”

“Between you and me,” Ellana replied, “I think Bull went Tal-Vashoth long ago. He only threw away the part of him that still belonged to the Ben-Hassrath.”

“Those boys are his family,” Dorian remarked. “The family he was never allowed to have under the Qun. I’m glad you stepped in and helped him make the right decision.”

Ellana smiled. “In the end, it was Bull’s call. He didn't have to do what I said. Instead, he _chose_ love over duty.” She leaned her head on Dorian’s shoulder. “You've made quite the impression on him.”

Dorian wrapped his arm around Ellana’s shoulders. “Am I selfish?” he asked.

Ellana thought a moment, then answered. “No, you just wanted to see what we have all come to love about Bull reflected in his actions. His devotion, his tenderness, his regard for the lives of others. All of those things were crystallized in that one moment. There is nothing selfish about that.”


	4. Duchess in a Box Tour 9:41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana asks for Duchess Florianne’s head on a pike after Cullen jokingly suggests it. Hilarity ensues.

Ellana awoke to the awareness that someone was stroking her hair. At first, she thought it was Cole, but the hand was too heavy, too large, too callused for it to belong to the boy. Her eyes opened.

“Bonjour, mon chaton,” Cullen whispered, as he laid down next to her.

“Cullen!” she cried, and curled into his waiting embrace. “Oh, am I dreaming?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” he sighed, then kissed the top of her head. “You haven’t come by to see me in over a week—”

“You said you wanted to be alone,” she replied, her voice quaking with emotion.

“Not _permanently_!” Cullen said with no small amount of alarm. “Did you think that I—”

“I don’t know what to think anymore, except that it hurts when you keep pushing me away,” Ellana sobbed. “I know you think you have to be strong all the time, that you need to go it alone and do everything yourself, but it’s _not_ true. I want to help, but you...won’t...let me!” Now she understood why Cole seemed so sad so much of the time.

“It’s not your burden to carry,” Cullen replied, trying to wipe her tears away and finding himself unable to keep up. “You didn't ask for this. When I said that I never wanted this to interfere, I wasn't just talking about the Inquisition.”

“Cullen, if I were suffering, wouldn't you want to comfort me?” Ellana asked. “Even if there was nothing else you could do but just be present?”

He nodded, and held her tighter to him. The idea of Ellana having to bear any pain alone was excruciating to him, and for the first time, Cullen realized that she had been feeling exactly that, despite his best intentions. “I’m _so_ sorry.”

“When I told you that I loved you, I _meant_ it,” she said. “And _everything_ that it implies.”

“I love you, too,” Cullen answered quietly.

"Wait. What?" Ellana gasped and shifted her body upwards until they were face to face. “You've _never_ said that to me before.”

“Not out loud,” he replied and rubbed his nose against hers. “Or when you were conscious. But that didn't stop it from being true ever since the day I met you.” 

She blinked.

“I’m,” Cullen closed his eyes and kissed her, “not very good at this, am I?” He traced her vallaslin with his fingertip. “I can say it again, if you like.”

She nodded, a slow smile spreading across her face.

“I love you, Ellana,” he whispered, before swallowing the ecstatic squeal that followed his words with a deep kiss.

~~~

“Sorry I’m late,” Ellana said, popping the collar of her mage robes and taking her seat on the Inquisitor’s throne. “I had a piece of... _personal business_...to attend to this morning.” She smirked and shamelessly eyed Cullen as he strode out the door of her quarters and back towards his office. It wasn't until he left the courtroom that she noticed something was amiss. For one thing, there was a lack of a defendant.

As if Josephine could sense Ellana’s confusion, she began. “First, this _wasn't_ my idea. It is an issue borne of titles and heir apparency, and…” she sighed. “Halamshiral is having difficulty freeing trade routes formerly controlled by Duchess Florianne.” She paused, as if she was still trying to wrap her mind around the situation at hand. “Had she been tried, her assets would be forfeit and considerable bureaucracy avoided. So...they...ask that we judge her.”

Ellana stared at Josephine. “This is supposed to make sense?” she asked. “I’m judging a _box_.”

The wooden crate sat silently, but for the buzzing of flies. It was going to take about a gallon of Orlesian perfume to get rid of the smell. Just when she’d gotten the courtroom the way she’d wanted it, too. She frowned.

“That was the time allotted for rebuttal,” declared Josephine. “Her crimes negated any claim to—” She gagged a bit suddenly, then cleared her throat. “Forgive me, there is an odor.”

Ellana cleared her throat dramatically. “I call for rehabilitation! The skull shall do public theatre about the evils of evil.” Then she leveled a threatening finger at the wooden crate. “I also judge the box. End table for orphans.”

Josephine stopped her before she could dole out punishments to the flies, the soldiers who carried the box inside, and the Orlesian crown for sending them the Duchess’ corpse in the first place. This didn't stop her from wanting a very creative punishment meted out for Florianne, and the idea for it came from the unlikeliest of people, for later that very day, a meeting was called in the War Room.

~~~

Both Leliana and Josephine seemed delighted by the idea of using the deceased Duchess to deter further rebellion in Orlais. Josephine thought a group approach was best. Even in death, Florianne would attend the chicest soirées, only the invitees would be those members of the nobility rumored to be entertaining the idea of taking part in the next coup attempt. Leliana, for her part, preferred a more personal touch, such as delivering the box to the homes of shady nobles so they would be surprised, unpleasantly, one hoped, by a new bedfellow or unexpected guest for petit déjeuner.

Even Morrigan raised her eyebrow at that. "And people think that I am the dark one," she mumbled before taking a sip of her chamomile tea. 

Cullen grunted and swirled his own mug in his hand. "Since we are being barbaric, why not set her head on a pike?"

Ellana turned to look at him, her eyes gleaming with sinister delight. So simple, without guile, straight to the point. The direct approach. She sighed in admiration as a wide smile spread across her face. 

Cullen's eyes widened. "What?" He looked at all the female faces in the room, all utterly fixed on him. "That was a _joke_ —do _not_ ask for her head on a pike!"

Ellana's smile started to bare teeth. The idea may not have been so appealing were it not for his obvious squeamishness about the situation. A part of her rather enjoyed watching him squirm. She thought it particularly amusing that he was the only male in the room, and a Fereldan at that, and here he was lecturing the Antivan woman and the Orlesian woman on barbarism. Ellana started to giggle so hard that she snorted.

"Inquisitor, _no_ ," he groaned.

"Inquisitor, _yes_!" Ellana said, hopping up and down enthusiastically. "Cullen, you are _brilliant_! Maybe Varric can write little one-act plays for the skull, like the puppet shows in a town square." She cleared her throat in an attempt to sound professional. "Only for educational purposes, of course."

Cullen sighed. "You want her head on a pike."

"This is your own fault for being _such_ a genius!" Ellana said as she pointed at him with a laugh. “Oh, look on the bright side, Commander! Perhaps you can use this as some sort of deterrent against undesirable behavior in the troops. Someone displeases you? Skull duty.”

This gave Cullen some pause. He sipped his tea. _Shapeley has been getting on my nerves a bit lately…_

“Also, this gives you the chance to torment the Orlesian nobility with the full sanction of the Empress. I would have thought you’d be more _grateful_ ,” she continued with a knowing wink.

~~~

“Ser?” asked Shapeley in a tone of disbelief.

“I’m transferring you to Orlais,” Cullen repeated as he watched the kittens wrestle on his desk. “You are to be the new Public Relations Specialist for the Inquisition Forces. You get to travel, meet interesting people, and act with the full sanction of both the Inquisition and the Orlesian court.”

“Thank you, Ser!”

“Don’t thank me _yet_ ,” Cullen’s lips curled into a smirk. “You haven’t heard the job description. Tell me, Shapeley,” Cullen paused to take a sip of tea, “how well can you handle a pike?”


	5. Iron Widow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana tries to help Vivienne save her lover, Bastien.

It was time for Afternoon Tea.

Ellana hurried up the spiral staircase, darted past Dorian and Fiona, and scrambled up another flight of stairs to where Vivienne had made her salon in Skyhold. Madame de Fer was waiting for her, with Flissa pouring her a cup of steaming Camellia tea. “You’re _late_ , my dear,” Vivienne said, raising her eyebrow.

“I’m sorry—”

Vivienne held up her hand. “ _Fashionably_ late, darling. Do not apologize. Or people will think you’re worried about appearances.”

Ellana was unsure what to make of that, bust she shrugged and decided to take Vivienne’s statement at face value. She reached for her tea cup.

“What are you _doing_ , my dear?” Vivienne asked, laying her hand on Ellana’s arm. “That is Flissa’s job.”

Ellana tilted her head apologetically. “Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.” She turned to Flissa. “Milk and two sugar cubes please, Flissa.”

“Of course, My Lady Inquisitor!” Flissa answered cheerfully. Ellana had saved her life back in Haven, and now she had risen from the position of bar owner to that of Vivienne’s handmaiden at Skyhold. Quite a feat, at least in terms of social standing. Ellana found herself wondering if Vivienne knew that Flissa was one of Leliana’s operatives, but ultimately decided not to broach the topic. She liked Vivienne and respected her, but she did not trust her completely.

Vivienne savored a sip of her tea and then regarded Ellana with a serious expression. “My dear, I’m afraid I must ask you for help.”

Ellana’s eyes widened. “Of course, Lady Vivienne. Anything!” Though she did not trust her, Ellana’s sincerity was genuine. She was grateful for the guidance and help the other woman had given her and had come to think of her as...well, not a mother figure, exactly. Perhaps an aunt. A somewhat cold and distant aunt that still looked out for her because it was in her interest to do so, but family all the same.

“There is an alchemical formula that I must complete, but I have been unable to obtain a critical ingredient: the heart of a snowy wyvern.” She continued, almost apologetically. “I had arranged to obtain one, but the chevaliers working with me were killed in the civil war.”

 

_Asking for help must be difficult for her_. “I’m sorry to hear of it. Please, tell me what I need to know about them.”

“They are quite rare and exceedingly dangerous,” answered Vivienne before sipping some more of her tea. “Their venom is the most potent of any wyvern. Ordinary hunters would not make the attempt. The risk is too great. _You_ , my dear, would certainly be an equal to this monster.”

Most people would not take being compared to a monster to be a compliment. But from Vivienne, who valued strength above all else, it was the highest of them.

“Thank you, Madame Vivienne. You are too kind.” Ellana handed her empty cup of tea to Flissa. “May I have a scone? Clotted cream, strawberry jam.” Flissa nodded, but then Ellana corrected herself. “Make it two, Flissa, if you please.” She turned back to Vivienne. “Sorry for the breach in propriety, but I thought I might—” She grinned. “Cullen _loves_ these.” 

“Of course, my dear! It is _no_ trouble,” Vivienne replied.

As Ellana waited for her scones, she asked, “I didn’t know you were an alchemist. If you don’t mind my asking, what is this project you’re working on?”

Vivienne’s mouth twitched. “It is a special request from a member of the Council of Heralds. I am still the Imperial Court Enchanter after all. The matter is private. That is all there is to say.”

Ellana was surprised and puzzled by Vivienne’s reticence in the matter. They’d known each other for months, with Ellana trusting her with some rather...intimate details of her life. “You want me to risk my life to get this thing for you...” she paused as Flissa handed her a scone and she took a delicate bite of it before continuing. “...but you won’t tell me what it’s for?”

“My dear, it is hardly proper for me to blab the secrets of those who put trust in my discretion. I would do no less for you, after all,” she answered, holding out her cup for more tea.

So be it. “I’ll do it,” Ellana said simply.

“Thank you my dear,” Vivienne answered, betraying an appreciativeness that was rather startling. “I would be most grateful.”

~~~

Flissa slipped Ellana some of Vivienne’s notes on the sly. The snowy wyvern typically made it’s home in the northern part of the Exalted Plains, in Ghilan'nain's Grove. It turned out that the purpose of the potion itself had something to do with age reversal. _A vanity project? Would Vivienne truly risk people’s lives for that_? It was no matter. Ellana had given her word, and now she had an excuse to visit Cullen that wasn’t solely food-related.

Not that he minded.

“Flissa was generous with the clotted cream and strawberry jam, I see.” Cullen whispered huskily in Ellana’s ear. “I guess Leliana must have told her what I like to do with it.” He dipped his finger into the cream and trailed his finger from the base of Ellana’s neck up to her ear.

“I am shocked and—mmph—scandalized...that…” Ellana trailed off as Cullen tangled his fingers in her hair and began to lick and suck the cream off her neck.

He laughed. “Cat got your tongue?” he purred.

Ellana opened her mouth in an attempt to make a snappy reply but found herself quite without words as Cullen dragged his fingertip between her breasts. All she could do was pull out Vivienne’s notes and moan.

“Could you read that to me, Sugar Lips?” Cullen whispered. “I’m a bit occupied at the moment.”

“One part...essence of...dawn...llllllllooooootusssss,” Ellana began. 

“Mmm hmm,” Cullen hummed as he unsnapped the buttons of her tunic one by one. “Why don’t you just summarize it for me?” he breathed over sensitive skin. “You can handle that, right?”

Ellana whimpered. “There’s...a...a...an obstacle. At the entrance to...Ghilan'nain's Grove. In the Exalted...PLAINS!” The last word she cried out. 

Cullen had bitten her. He laughed. “Not so loud! I didn’t even bite that hard.” He smirked through a blush and shook his head. “I’m sorry, this is work related, isn’t it?”

Ellana busied herself with closing up her tunic. “A favor. For Vivienne. I figure we _both_ owe her, don’t we?”

“We _certainly_ do,” Cullen said as he caressed her cheek. “So she needs me to send my men to the Exalted Plains to move...something.”

“Yes, I think it’s a collapsed tunnel,” Ellana answered.

“And then she needs you to go do something dangerous, correct?” he asked, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

Ellana nodded. “She needs the heart of a snowy wyvern.”

Cullen bit his lip. “Yes, well...how many dragons are you up to?”

“Five,” Ellana replied.

“Then I guess I have nothing to worry about, do I?” he smiled and looked down at his desk.

“But you’re still worried, aren’t you?” she asked, lifting his chin with her fingertips.

He shook his head. “I won’t stop worrying about you until this is all over,” he whispered. “Silly girl.”

Ellana drew his face towards hers and kissed him, but then broke it quickly with a wriggle. “Now I’m all sticky,” she laughed. “I need a bath.”

“And with me about to take my dinner break?” asked Cullen, smirking. “What a _tragic_ sequence of events!”

~~~

“Why is she not here to do her _own_ dirty work?” asked Dorian as they sloshed through the stream. 

“Tramp is enjoying himself,” remarked Varric. “Aren’t you, boy?” He snapped his fingers at a mabari pup that had imprinted on him. Tramp barked in response.

“Maybe I enjoy the pleasure of your company more.” Ellana said. “Though I have to admit I was tempted have an all mage party on this trip. The way you three snipe at each other! It makes for all _sorts_ of amusing entertainment.” She shook her head. “It’s a wonder that I can manage to be friends with all three of you.”

“You think she’s your friend?” asked Dorian. “Vivienne is _no one’s_ friend. Did she even tell you what she needed this wyvern heart for?”

Ellana was startled. She hadn’t expected such vitriol from him. “If you were that set against coming along, Dorian, you could have just said so.”

“This isn’t about you and me. I would go anywhere with you. Anytime,” snapped Dorian. “This is about Vivienne and how she treats everyone around her like servants. _Her_ servants.” 

“Oh, come on Sparkler!” exclaimed Varric. “The Iron Lady does nice things for others...sometimes.”

“Bull, you’ve been awfully quiet,” Ellana remarked.

“I’m not saying _anything_. That woman? Scares me,” said The Iron Bull. “Oh, look! A snowy wyvern. Good. Killing that is probably safer than talking about Madame de Fer behind her back.” He ran off in pursuit. 

Tramp rode in Varric’s pack as if it were a papoose. His head bobbed up and down in time with Varric’s steps as he ran after Bull.

And the mages brought up the rear, because that’s what they do. “Remember,” Dorian called out. “Don’t use that rift spell unless you want there to be nothing left of that thing!”

“Right!” Ellana responded, “Thanks for the reminder!”

~~~

A day later, Ellana returned to Skyhold, exhausted. She immediately made her way to Vivienne, who didn’t even turn around at her approach.

“What can I do for you, my dear? Is it too much to hope that you’ve brought me the heart of the snowy wyvern?” she asked, gazing out her window.

“I have,” Ellana replied. She held out a glass case that held the heart within towards Vivienne. 

The other woman turned and looked at her with a luminous smile. “Ellana, darling? You are a _treasure_!" She walked over to her vanity, opened a drawer and retrieved something from within. “Here is compensation for your trouble—”

"Vivienne, payment isn’t necessary!” Ellana said with a smile. “You are my friend. I did it because I wanted to help you.”

“All the same darling, you should take it,” Vivienne replied. “At the very least you can give that to Dorian. I’m sure he complained the entire time.” She paused and regarded Ellana. “You have been a dear friend, and I...would like you to come with me to see this through.”

~~~

Two days later, Ellana accompanied Vivienne through the halls of the Ghislain estate. Even in daylight, the place was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. When they entered the master bedroom, Ellana hesitated and looked over at Vivienne.

She’d never seen her looking so worried and sad. Madame de Fer nodded as if to tell her it was alright to follow. “This should only take a moment, Ellana.” Then she walked to the side of the bed and addressed the man lying there. “I’m here, my darling.”

It was Bastien. Ellana had never met him and only rarely did Vivienne speak of him. Was he ill? Her eyes widened with the sudden realization that the potion wasn’t meant for Vivienne, but for her lover. Ellana followed Vivienne, but kept a respectful distance.

Madame de Fer pulled a vial from her belt and poured its contents into Bastien’s mouth. 

“Vivienne?”

At the sound of Bastien merely speaking her name, she glowed with affection. “Yes, Darling.”

He looked at her. “It’s going to be all right, my love,” he whispered.

And then he was no more.

“My darling?” Vivienne cried, “Bastien?”

Ellana felt terrible. If only she’d known sooner! “Well...shit,” she whispered.

As soon as the heartbreak appeared on Vivienne's face, it was gone. "There's nothing here now," she said simply.

~~~

Ellana and Vivienne didn't speak again until they returned to Skyhold. It was night. Crickets were chirping as they ascended the grand staircase that led to the main building. "Bastien is dead," Vivienne whispered. "I can hardly believe..." She paused at the top of the stairs and looked at Ellana. "It was the Wintersend Ball. My first visit to the Imperial Palace. The Circle sent a dozen of us to entertain the nobility. I was in awe of everyone and everything. And then...our eyes met. Bastien spent the _entire_ ball at my side. The Dowager tried to have him killed for slighting her, but he didn't care," she said with no small amount of pride.

Ellana smiled. "Obviously he was smitten, but what did _you_ think of him?"

Vivienne looked up at the stars. "He was a dashing rogue, and any defects he might have had were made up for with rank and importance. It was...a more innocent time, I suppose. And now he's gone, and I...I must write to his son Laurent...and his sister will make a terrible fuss if she isn't informed first. And I'll need to arrange for the Chantry services. Maker only knows how long that will take.”

Ellana took Vivienne’s hand in hers. “If I can help you, just say the word.”

Madame de Fer shook her head. “No, my dear. I’ll handle everything. Excuse me. I have so much to do.” She walked inside and shut the great door behind her.

~~~

When Ellana came to visit Cullen, he had just tossed a wadded-up paper ball to the ground, much to the delight of the kittens. “They’re so easy to please,” he marveled before dipping to kiss her. “Et vous, mon chaton préféré? Comment avez-vous été?”

She smiled. “You’re getting really good. I think I understood about half of that.”

“Well, when you never sleep, you have a lot more time on your hands,” he replied with a laugh. “I’d offer to teach you, but…” Cullen kissed her. “...we’d probably…” he kissed her again. “...just get distracted.” He smiled at her. “See?” He rubbed her nose with his and smiled. “I asked you how you’ve been. I know you went to the Ghislain estate with Vivienne and I half expected you to come back in some enticing outfit to tempt me with.”

Ellana raised an eyebrow at him. “How do you know I didn’t?”

Thanks to Vivienne, Cullen knew perfectly well that Ellana wore something very enticing under her robes, but he could sense that she was being playful, not seductive. Well, not on purpose anyway.

Her smile faded. “Duke Bastien de Ghislain is dead.” She hung her head. “Despite my best efforts.”

Cullen pulled her in for a hug. “Give Madame Vivienne my condolences when you see her next.”

“I wish I’d known sooner,” she sighed. “Maybe we could have saved him.” She rested her head against his chest. “Before I came here to see you, I seriously considered visiting Alexius."

"Alexius?" Cullen asked, startled. "The one who..."

"Sent Dorian and I into the future, yes." Ellana said. "I thought perhaps if we'd arrived just one or two days sooner..."

Cullen stroked her hair. "Silly girl." He kissed her forehead. "You barely made it back last time, and I almost lost you forever."

"She's my friend, Cullen," she whispered. "If the situation were different...if I lost _you_...when there was even the slightest possibility that I could take it back, _nothing_ would stop me. Not Gods or time or--"

Cullen captured her lips with his own. He was quite sure that no one had ever loved him that much, that they would be willing (and quite possibly able) to break the laws of magic and reality to hold on to him. It was like staring at the sun. But he could never let her do such a thing. It would destroy her, turn her into the very kind of monster she'd been fighting so hard against.

He would just have to live, for as long as she'd have him. Simple as that.


	6. Ladyhawke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana meets Lady Marian Hawke of Kirkwall

Ellana was standing out on the battlements waiting for Cullen and watching the sun set when Varric approached her. “There’s someone here I’d like you to meet.”

She turned around and standing there was a dark haired human woman with green eyes and a constantly impish expression.

“Ellana, meet Hawke,” said Varric. “The Champion of Kirkwall.”

Hawke winced a little. “Don’t really use that title much anymore.”

“Hawke, Inquisitor Lavellan,” He continued, making the opposite introduction. “I figured you might have some friendly advice about Corypheus. You and I _did_ fight him, after all.” He stepped out to let the women get acquainted while he enjoyed a fine Tevinter red he’d won in a bet against Dorian.

There was an awkward silence for almost a minute until Hawke moved next to Ellana and leaned on the wall to look at the sunset alongside her. “You’ve already dropped half a mountain on the bastard. I’m sure anything _I_ can tell you pales in comparison.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Ellana replied with a smirk. “You did save an entire city from a horde of rampaging Qunari.”

“I don’t see how that really applies,” Hawke deflected. “Or is there a horde of rampaging Qunari I don’t know about?”

“There’s a _Qunari_ ,” Ellana replied. “He almost qualifies as a horde all by himself. Fortunately, he’s on our side.”

“So...then, what can I tell you?” asked Hawke.

~~~

Ellana and Hawke exchanged information on Corypheus, the Templars, the Grey Wardens and red lyrium. It turned out that things were worse than they’d thought. Not only were the Red Templars thralls to Corypheus, but so were a number of Grey Wardens.

“Well, shit.” Ellana sighed.

“I know, right? Sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings,” Hawke said. “It’s not like you don’t have enough to worry about, what with an ancient, power-mad, Tevinter Magister darkspawn with a pet dragon and an army of rage-crazed Templars pointed directly at their favorite sort of target. That would be an _apostate_ , in case you’re not keeping score.”

“I figured that out for myself, _thank you_ ,” Ellana replied.

“Yes, Varric told me how _clever_ you are.” Hawke smirked. “You’d have to be, if you want to keep up with Commander Noodle Hair.”

“Commander _what_?” asked Ellana.

Hawke laughed. “Oh, I forgot! Varric _always_ gets the last word. He called Cullen ‘Curly’ while I called him ‘Knight-Captain Noodle Hair’. I think I actually got him to crack a smile around the fourth or fifth time I called him that.” Hawke patted Ellana on the arm. “I _remember_ you, by the way. You stayed at my house the week Fenris and I...broke up. _Seven_ years! Wow. I’m glad you two _finally_ got together.”

“Wait. How did you—”

“Varric tells me _everything_ ,” Hawke replied. “Anyway. The Commander...is a great man. Don’t let his modesty fool you. He led the Templars in Kirkwall for _three years_ during the thick of the Mage Rebellion. And if you ever start getting ideas about ruling your own kingdom, he could probably get one for you. The Inquisition Army is...the most impressive unified force in Thedas right now. And that is _his_ work. Don’t you _ever_ forget that.”

They fell into a comfortable silence for a while as the sun dipped below the horizon. Ellana finally whispered, “I have a personal question if you don’t mind my asking.”

“Does it involve anything in Varric’s book?” Hawke asked with a sideways glance. “I suppose it’s all right. I did just pry into your relationship with your Commander. Go ahead and ask your question.”

Ellana took a deep breath. “According to Varric’s book, you and Fenris...ended up together, but you just said that you two broke up the night I stayed at your house.”

Hawke nodded. “Varric was trying to protect me. And Anders. When he blew up the Chantry, I...I loved him _too much_ to kill him. I believed he could atone for what he did. But it wasn't safe for him in Kirkwall, so we left together. Varric was trying to throw the Chantry off our trail. Fenris and I saw each other on and off, and sometimes, when Anders and I quarrel...well, let’s just say that sometimes choosing between two men isn’t as easy as some people make it out to be. If it weren’t for the fact that they can’t even stand to be within the same country together, I wouldn’t mind being with both of them permanently.” She chuckled. “That’s...probably a _bit_ more information than you were looking for, but there you have it.” She looked far over to her left. “ _Someone_ is waiting for you,” she said with a wink. “Don’t let me keep you.” 

And she walked off towards her guest quarters.

Cullen came up behind Ellana, wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her head. “Learn anything valuable?” he whispered.

“ _Noodle_. Hair.” Ellana snorted.

Cullen groaned and then tickled her. Ellana shrieked and wriggled in his embrace. “This will teach you to...not repeat...disparaging nicknames,” he teased.

“Oh, you _prefer_ Curly, then?” she asked, laughing.

“I _tolerate_ it,” Cullen answered. “But I would prefer you just...call me by my name.”

“Spoilsport,” Ellana said with a mock pout. “Why don’t you want me to have any fun?”

“Because,” he whispered in her ear, “the sound of you saying my name is the most beautiful music in the world to me.”

Ellana turned around, wrapped her arms Cullen’s neck, stood on tiptoe and kissed him. “Oh, Cullen. I love you _so_ much! I’m the _luckiest_ woman in the world—”

He had to stop her before he got completely overwhelmed with emotion. Cullen lifted Ellana onto the battlement wall, stepped between her legs, and kissed her until they had both forgotten what they’d been talking about.


	7. Under My Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen sees to it that Hawke and Fenris are reunited during her stay at Skyhold, while unbeknownst to him, Ellana arranges for Anders to stay for the same reason.

“Are you _sure_ you can do this?” Cullen asked. “It’s a long way, and he’s not the most _personable_ —”

“I’ve been just about everywhere the Inquisitor needs me to go, Commander,” answered Lieutenant Lace Harding. 

“At least for the foreseeable future,” he concurred.

“And I’ll have Templars with me. If we run into any hostile mages, well, I’ll be as safe as those little ones,” Lace remarked, and pointed at Cullen’s kittens curled up together on his desk.

“Fair enough,” Cullen replied. “Is there anything else you need before you head out?”

Lace grinned. “Can I borrow the Taslin Strider?”

Cullen smirked. “You may _keep_ it,” he replied. She was going all the way to Tevinter, after all. May as well make it worth her while.

The conversation with Harding reminded him that he hadn’t gone riding in a while. Cullen was, though he was loathe to admit it, most fond of the Imperial Warmblood that Dorian’s father had stealthily gifted to the Inquisition after their relations had somewhat thawed. Dennet never let him hear the end of it, but all the pocket money he’d won off the various members of Ellana’s inner circle made it worth the teasing. He’d beaten Josephine in a race so soundly just the week before, that he was certain she was plotting some sort of revenge against him.

But Josephine was one of the nicest people he knew. What was the worst thing she could concoct against him?

~~~

“How did you manage to find him?” Ellana asked as she sat on the corner of Josephine’s desk. 

“It was a joint effort,” Josephine replied. “While it seemed likely that Anders would have gone underground in the wake of the Mage Rebellion, it was just as possible that he and Hawke would have found a sympathetic benefactor amongst the nobility as well.”

“Rivain is so different and removed from the rest of Thedas that they may as well have gone underground,” Ellana remarked. “Have you arranged safe transport for him?”

“I have,” Josephine answered. “And he should arrive within a week or so.”

“Well, let’s hope the Grey Wardens aren’t up to any _serious_ mischief or things...could get a little awkward,” Ellana said, hopping down from the desk as she started to leave.

“Not to mention what could happen to him if Corypheus shows up here,” added Josephine.

Ellana sighed. “If Corypheus shows up at Skyhold, Anders will likely be pretty far down on the list of things we’ll need to be concerned about.” Then she left the room.

“Did you talk to Cullen about the Templars?” asked Leliana, walking into Josephine’s office from the War Room. “They might be...concerned...about Anders’ presence.”

“Well, _shit_ ,” said Josephine.

~~~

Cullen coursed through the mountain roads near Skyhold, enjoying the feel of the summer breeze in his hair. It helped to relax him somewhat while he remained deep in thought.

While catching up together earlier in the week, Hawke had told Cullen that she had left Fenris on purpose, under the auspices of “protecting” him. It nettled him to hear it. _The idea of letting the world come between you and the person you love because you believe that you are somehow more capable than them...is that really love_? _Was Fenris given a choice about this, or did she pat him on the head and send him on his way_? 

He thought about all the times while the Inquisition was in Haven that Ellana kept trying to tell him that she didn’t want to elevated above him. Now he finally understood; she didn’t want to be worshiped. She wanted him to love her. As an equal. And he felt both incredibly lucky that Ellana had chosen him and... _disappointed_ in Hawke, someone he had admired greatly and who had helped him in more ways than she’d ever know. Without her and her everyday needling him and challenging him on his beliefs, he may not have ever turned on Meredith or left the Templars. 

He could have ended up as one of those monsters, roaming the countryside, hunting mages and being eaten from the inside out by red lyrium and hate. 

And he might not have ever allowed himself to care for Ellana. Well, it was time to return the favor. Hawke deserved to have the happiness that he’d found, too. Whether she believed it or not.

~~~

“ _Anders_ is coming? _Here_?” Fiona was shocked. “The Inquisition’s getting broad-minded.”

“Well, not _everybody_ knows about it,” Ellana replied, looking askance. 

“Oh my,” Fiona replied. “If word were to reach the Chantry—well, I suppose you are fortunate that they are so disorganized right now, or the Chantry might consider an Exalted March against the Inquisition.”

“For harboring Anders?” Ellana asked.

“Amongst other things,” she answered.

“I took you lot in though,” Ellana countered with a wink.

“Yes, well none of us _blew up the Chantry_ ,” Fiona replied.

“Oh, right,” Ellana said. “Well, shit.”

~~~

The name was on the tip of Ellana’s tongue. Every since Shapeley left for Orlais, Cullen had a new personal assistant, a dwarven woman. But they’d never been formally introduced. Still, he _had_ to have mentioned her name to her at some point. 

“Lady Inquisitor?” she said with an amused twitch to her lips. “The Commander requests...an _audience_ with you. In his office.”

At that point, everybody and their mother knew about Ellana and Cullen. Sometimes it felt like other people knew more about the state of things between them that Ellana did. For instance, rumor amongst the courtiers had it that Cullen had gotten a ring for her in Orlais, but that would be _mad_! Cullen _hates_ Orlais! And if he had gotten something like that for her, wouldn’t he have given it to her by now? _Why sit on that_? That rumor had been bouncing around for weeks now.

Despite the fact that they would be meeting in his office, everyone seemed aware that Cullen and Ellana rarely actually talked business there and reacted accordingly. With giggles and sighs. Ellana shut the door behind her. “You wanted to see—”

Cullen stopped her with his lips and tongue as he pinned her against the door. Ellana giggled against his mouth and slid her arms up around his neck and he broke their kiss with a happy sigh. “Believe it or not, I _do_ have business to discuss with you, _Inquisitor_.”

Ellana twisted and tugged the locks of Cullen’s hair affectionately, causing him to close his eyes in bliss. “Oh, is that so, _Commander_?” she asked teasingly. “Do tell.”

Cullen leaned forward and buried his face in her neck. “We’re going to have a special visitor arrive today,” he whispered as he kissed her tenderly. “For his own safety, I suggest you...keep Dorian occupied. Away from Lady Hawke. The visitor...doesn’t like mages from Tevinter.” He bit down where her neck met her shoulder.

Something in Ellana’s delirious mind sensed she should be concerned about this information. The thoughts came slowly, as if they were journeying through a dense fog. Hawke...doesn’t like mages...Tevinter… “Fenris!” she cried out, her eyes wide with shock.

Cullen laughed and kissed the corner of her mouth. “Should I be _jealous_?”

Ellana was too busy fumbling through her pockets to answer. She’d received correspondence that morning but had neglected to open it. And there it was. She placed her hand over Cullen’s heart. “We have a _problem_.”

~~~

“You invited an abomination to Skyhold?” Cullen was aghast.

“Calm down!” Ellana exclaimed. “ _You_ didn’t tell me that you invited a man who regularly rips people’s still-beating hearts out of their chests _for fun_. I’d dare say we’re even.”

“Maker’s Breath, I think I’m going to be sick,” Cullen said as he staggered back towards his desk. “You _know_ how I feel about this sort of thing, _why_ would you do this?”

“Cullen,” Ellana said gently, rubbing his back. “You’ve fought alongside Anders, against both mages _and_ templars. Is there anything that leads you to believe that he would actually harm you?”

“You mean besides _blowing up the Chantry_?” Cullen asked.

“I mean _personally_.”

“That _was_ personal!” Cullen exclaimed. “And you didn’t answer my question. _Why_?”

“Honestly?” Ellana replied, “I did it because I am grateful to Hawke. I know she had a profound influence on you back in Kirkwall and I can’t help but think that things between us would not have been the same without her.” She reached out to Cullen and caressed his cheek. “I wanted her to be as happy as I am. Creators know she’s been through a lot.”

Cullen snorted. “I can’t believe it. We’re starting to think alike.”

Ellana smirked, “Not _too_ much, I hope.”

Cullen pressed his forehead against hers. “Well, we have our work cut out for us now. Do you have a plan?”

~~~

“That’s not a plan!” exclaimed Dorian as he hurried down the stairs towards Solas’ room. “That’s barely a _concept_!”

“Look, just hear me out!” Ellana said, “You, me, Cole, and Solas. Maybe we could... _separate_ them.”

“What’s all this about?” Solas asked. He was standing on a ladder and adding to the mural on his wall.

Ellana took a deep breath. “Solas, what do you know about separating a demon from its host?”

“Well, there’s _killing_ the abomination,” he answered, adding a touch of gold to Celene’s gown. ‘That’s the _official_ Chantry stance, am I correct?”

“This _isn’t_ the Chantry, replied Ellana. “This is the Inquisition, and _I_ am the Inquisitor. It is not _my_ stance. I want Skyhold to be a sanctum of healing and salvation, and the Inquisition to be a force for change in Thedas. There’s _so much_ we can—”

Solas turned, his mouth twitching. “You sound like Cullen.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Do you believe in Andraste now as well?”

“No,” Ellana answered. “I believe in _us_. All of us.” She turned to Dorian. “You were the foremost expert on Adralla while you were at the Circle of Vyrantium. Why did I have to find that out from Leliana instead of you?”

“Yes,” added Solas. “One would think that Dorian would not miss an opportunity to boast.”

Dorian shrugged. “I didn’t think it would be relevant?”

“We’re fighting _demons_. Every day.” Ellana groaned.

“Yes, well we’re usually just killing them,” Dorian replied. “What we do here is like using a club, while what I studied in Vyrantium was like using a scalpel.”

“This would explain your curiosity towards Cole,” she observed.

“Dorian is curious about a _lot_ of things,” said Cole, appearing behind them. Dorian and Ellana jumped in surprise and spun to face him. 

“Andraste’s flaming ass, Cole!” Dorian yelped. “How long have you been here?”

“I arrived with the rest of you, Dorian,” Cole replied. “Don’t you remember?”

“Never mind, Cole,” Ellana said, patting him gently on the shoulder. “It’s good that you’re here. This concerns you too.”

“You wish to return a spirit to the Fade, and to return life to the man who has hosted the spirit for too long,” Cole observed. “You want to _help_.”

“All of this is academic,” grumbled Dorian. “We don’t even know that this is what Anders wants.”

Cole closed his eyes. “Why don’t we ask him? He is here.”

~~~

Anders had apparently escaped his escorts and ran full tilt towards Solas’ room. “Compassion!” an inhuman voice rang through the halls of Skyhold, “You meddler, I _know_ you’re here!”

“I think Justice is upset,” said Cole.

“You _think_?” asked Dorian. “The Templars are going to come in here and purge us all at the rate this is going.”

“No,” Cole replied. “The Lion will protect his pride.”

~~~

The timing could not have been worse. Harding arrived with Fenris just as Anders broke free and the elf took off in hot pursuit.

She turned to Cullen and mumbled, “Well, shit.”

~~~

“Do you honestly think bolting the door will protect you from me?” Fenris roared. “You’re more addled than I thought!”

Anders’ eyes glowed blue and his hands ignited. “You should be more concerned about your own well-being, elf!”

“Enough!” Ellana shouted, her Anchor pulsating.

Fenris phased through the door, his glowing hand outstretched towards Ellana. 

“No!” Dorian cried out, and soon Fenris found himself suspended in mid-air about six feet off the ground.

The elf looked down at Dorian. His eyes widened, and he spat. “Fasta vass, _maleficar_.”

Dorian smirked and wiggled Fenris’s helpless form precariously above them, lifting him higher and higher. “Na via lerno victoria.”

Ellana rubbed her temples. “You,” she gestured to Anders. “Put out your hands and sit down.”

She turned to Dorian. “Set him down, gently.”

Dorian did not respond.

“Dorian?”

“His markings!” Dorian whispered.

“Bella, who held my hand for seven years, stolen away, driven mad by the lyrium,” Cole murmured. “Danarius did _not_ stop.”

Fenris stopped glowing. “You sought revenge against Danarius?”

Dorian nodded.

“You have had it,” Fenris said. “He is dead by _my_ hand these four years.”

Dorian set Fenris to his feet as lightly as a feather. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Maybe Bella can rest now.”

“Right.” Ellana said, and turned back towards Anders, or rather, Not-Anders. “Do you know why you’re here?”

“He is here to see the distraction,” Not-Anders replied.

Cole spoke. “Is that you, Justice? Or do you go by Vengeance now?”

“Compassion,” Not-Anders acknowledged with a polite dip of the head. “Was this _your_ doing?”

“It is good to see you again, old friend,” Cole answered. “But this was not part of any plan of mine. You can see why I was drawn to this place, to these people, to her. She is...kindred to me.”

“Another meddler,” Not-Anders grunted.

“Oh?” Ellana raised her eyebrow. “And blowing up the Chantry, that wasn’t meddling? Are we so different?” She snorted. “The real difference between you and I is that I create, heal, and restore while you have rent and destroyed. This is not what Anders wanted, I think.”

“A sanctum of healing and salvation,” said Cole. “Anders’ dream lives here. In the Inquisition.”

“Solas?” Ellana asked. “Do you have enough of a read on him yet?”

Solas nodded. “Difficult but not impossible. We will need to go into the Fade to do the working.”

“We’ll need lyrium” said Dorian. “And Templars.”

“Templars?” Solas objected, looking at Ellana in alarm.

“No, Dorian is right,” Ellana said, biting her lip. “We’re going to need protection.” She turned to Cole. “What about you? We could use your expertise, and you seem to be familiar with our...guest.”

Cole nodded. “I have some...ideas as well. And you will need the Litany of Adralla.”

Ellana smirked and pointed to her head. “It’s all right here.”

~~~

When Cullen saw Fenris lead a contingent of Templars though the courtyard and towards the main building, he became concerned. “Um, do you mind telling me why you’re heading towards an apostates residence with a detachment of Templars?” he called out.

“It is by the Lady Inquisitor’s request, Commander,” Fenris answered.

“ _What_.”

~~~

“Let him speak, Justice,” said Cole. “You owe him that much.”

“Is this what you want, Anders?” Ellana asked. “I don’t know if anything like this has ever been attempted before.”

“Certainly not when the symbiosis has gone on for at least ten years,” Dorian interjected.

The blue glow left Anders’ eyes and he panted heavily, looking around him like a caged animal. “Yes. Please, if you can, _help_ me...all I ever wanted was to be free. And as long as he’s with me...I _never_ will be. So _many_ lives lost,” he moaned and scrubbed his scalp with his fingers. “And it’s _all_ my fault! I—I don’t want to be a monster anymore.” He pinned Ellana with his eyes. “Do it. Quickly, before he changes my mind!”

There was a knock at the door. Dorian stepped outside briefly and returned just as quickly with a bowl of lyrium. “Everybody have a seat,” he said. “We don’t have much time. Cole, take Ellana’s hand. It will help keep you rooted in the physical world.”

~~~

Cullen arrived outside Solas’ door to find it surrounded by Templars, swords drawn. He whispered, “What is the meaning of this?”

Several of the Templars hushed him and gestured at the door. Lysette looked at the others and stepped forward. “The Inquisitor is attempting an exorcism. She requested our presence, should something go _wrong_.”

“How long has it been since they went quiet?” he asked.

“Not long,” she answered.

“Let me pass,” he said.

“We can’t do that, Ser,” answered another one of the Templars. “Now that you are...no longer a Templar, you are _vulnerable_ to corruption.”

Cullen narrowed his eyes. “Some of the most vulnerable people I’ve ever known were Templars. It isn’t our armor, or our swords, or our training, or our—your lyrium that protects us. It’s this,” he pointed to his head, “and this.” He pointed to his heart. “The Inquisitor is in there and I will _not_ be kept from her. You can either get out of my way...or you can be moved.”

~~~

Cullen burst into Solas’ room to see Anders seated in the center, unconscious. Likewise were Ellana, Dorian, Solas, and...Cole, who surrounded him in a circle. The vessel of lyrium nearby told him that they had entered the Fade together. But Cole wasn’t a mage…

He quietly and tentatively approached them, almost jumping out of his skin when Cole spoke. “You have been twisted against your purpose, Justice. Your contract with Anders is null and void. It is time...that you leave him.”

Cullen grasped at the hilt of his sword, hands trembling. Cole’s voice did not sound like Cole. It sounded like Ellana and Cole speaking at the same time. 

_Oh, Ellana! What have you done_?

Everything his training had taught him told him that there was enough evidence to prove she'd been compromised. He _should_ kill her now. But he was no longer a Templar, no longer beholden to the Chantry. He could analyze the situation further now that questioning his training was an option. _If she were possessed, it was unlike any possession I've ever seen. For one thing...Cole is still maintaining a physical presence, holding her hand. That boy...always complicating things._

Anders mumbled, “Goodbye, old friend.” But it wasn’t Anders’ voice. 

Cullen’s head was spinning. He sat down on Solas’ desk and watched in shock as a bright blue light shot out of Anders’ chest and then dissipated into nothingness. Ellana’s Anchor flickered.

And everyone woke up at once.

~~~

Ellana looked up to see Cullen standing over her.

“Are you...”

Ellana held up her finger. “Dorian, is he alright or do we have a drooling vegetable?”

Dorian got up to check on Anders.

Cullen exhaled. Cole would never call anyone a drooling vegetable. Ellana held out her hand to him and he pulled her up and into an embrace.

“To answer your question, Cullen, yes, I am still _me_ ,” she said, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Je suis toujours votre chaton.”

“Anders is going to be all right, Ellana.” Dorian called out. “He’s going to need some rest, but I expect him to make a full recovery, in time.”

“Thank the Creators” whispered Ellana.

“Thank the Maker,” Cullen said at the same time.

~~~

“Commander? A _word_ , if you please.” Solas said. It sounded more like an order than a request, and for some reason, Cullen felt compelled to obey. He and the apostate stepped outside to the battlements.

“What is it that you have to say for yourself?” asked Cullen. “Was this _your_ doing?”

Solas’s mouth twitched. “Not _exactly_. The exorcism was Ellana’s idea. I just provided a way, Cole provided the means, and Dorian provided the safety.”

“Was—was Ellana...possessed?” Cullen asked.

“Not in the way you understand it, no. Cole isn’t like most spirits. He can’t possess others in the same way Justice or a demon can. He’s too... _human_.” Solas replied. “Cole can read a person’s soul like other people read books. Dorian discovered that the connection works both ways, at least in Ellana’s case. It may because of the Anchor. She is quite adept at dreamwalking as well. It only follows that she would be capable of this.”

“So he...was not,” Cullen gulped, “ _inside_ her?”

“No,” Solas answered. “It turns out life is full of exceptions and nuance, Commander.”

It was true. Before the Circle fell, Cullen had obeyed every rule the Templars had...but he had made an exception about fraternizing with mages when it came to Neria. Even if their relationship was, in retrospect, rather innocent, if they had been discovered, it would have been enough for her to be given the brand. ‘Corrupting the moral integrity of a Templar,’ they would have called it. 

After he went to Kirkwall, he had followed Meredith’s edicts about apostates to the letter. Except when it came to Hawke and her companions. It wasn’t like Hawke, Anders or Merrill bothered to hide what they were. And it was not Hawke’s political power that shielded her from his judgement, because he never cared about that sort of thing. He’d made the decision, drawing not from what he’d been taught as a Templar, but from what he’d been taught by his family about considering the content of one’s character.

And he definitely did not aid and abet the heathen Dalish. Except, of course, for Ellana.

The world was not as black and white as he had once believed. And he may have never truly believed that it was in the first place. Cullen wasn’t comfortable with that knowledge just yet, but he accepted it.


	8. Happy Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian and The Iron Bull reveal that they’re serious. Meanwhile, Clan Lavellan has trouble with a racist noble in Wycome.

“So, Dorian. About last night…”

Dorian sighed nervously. “Discretion isn’t really your thing, is it?”

He had a point. For a (former) spy, Bull had awfully loose lips.

~~~

It had been going on for weeks now, ever since Dorian had met with his father in Redcliffe. While an exhausted Ellana visited Cullen that night, The Iron Bull asked Dorian out for a drink at the Herald’s Rest. After that, the looks started. Even before Redcliffe, Bull had shamelessly and rather graphically flirted with Dorian without any sign of reciprocal interest while Ellana and Cole looked at each other with looks of utter confusion on their faces. But after Redcliffe, things were... _different_. The air vibrated like someone was plucking a giant harpstring that connected the two of them. 

“Three times! Also, do you want those silky underthings back, or did you leave those like a token?” Bull paused briefly. “Or...wait! Did you ‘forget’ them so you’d have an excuse to come back? You _sly_ dog!”

Dorian’s lips twitched. “If you choose to leave your door unlocked like a savage, I may or may _not_ come.” 

“Speak for yourself,” Bull countered with a snort and a wink of his eye.

For one thing, Dorian... _Dorian_ of all people had begun to make innuendos about Bull and himself. For someone who was quite content with making sly insinuations about others, often, he had always been tight-lipped about his own intimate affairs. And he most definitely did not _ever_ broach the topic with Ellana. Until he started openly joking about how much he enjoyed being tied up, that is.

Ellana, though curious, did not wish to pry. For one thing, she didn’t want to embarrass herself by displaying her ignorance about the topic. Before she’d met Cullen, she’d never even _kissed_ anyone before, and they had still not been...intimate...yet. What sort of advice or encouragement could she give? 

_Congratulations on the sex. Yay. Maybe I could get them a cake. That would be subtle._

~~~

Was she happy for them? She supposed so. She was very fond of Bull, but she loved Dorian dearly and felt very protective of him. He was so much more tenderhearted than most people realized. And, with all the joking Bull peppered into their everyday conversations about his dalliances with random servants, Chantry sisters, and barmaids, she worried that he may not be serious about her best friend. 

This was _unacceptable_. “If he breaks Dorian’s heart, I will rip him apart with his own horns.”

Cullen’s eyes widened. “Please don’t.” He capped her shoulders from behind and massaged them in an effort to calm her.

Her eyes flashed as she turned to look at him. “You disapprove?”

“I do,” he said, keeping his gaze level. “Dorian is a grown man. And you can’t solve everybody’s problems by _killing people_ all the time.”

Ellana blinked. Her threats of violence was nothing more than empty posturing, but she wasn't used to him challenging her so directly. It...stirred her, made her feel like her belly was on fire. “Is my military advisor telling me that violence isn’t the answer?”

“No,” Cullen answered, his voice low but steady. “The man who loves you more than anything in this world is telling you that he’s worried that your job is bleeding into your personal life.” He bit his lip and gently curled his fingers into her hair. “And before you say anything, yes. I’m aware of the hypocrisy, but it doesn’t make it any less true or any less of a concern.”

Ellana looked up into his molten gold eyes and felt the anger and fear churning within her unravel. She inhaled slowly, then exhaled sharply. “Ugh! You’re—you’re right. I know better than to indulge in such...destructive fantasies. About my own _friends_. Oh, Creators!” She rubbed her temples. “What’s _wrong_ with me?”

His own hands were shaking, and it wasn't from the withdrawal. Cullen wanted so badly to comfort her, to take all her worries away, but found himself paralyzed with doubt. _Who am I to think that I have such power over her or to know what she needs_? He did his best to still his trembling as he wrapped his arms around Ellana. “You've been under _so_ much pressure...for months now. I can only imagine. You didn't ask for any of this. And with everything that’s been going on with your Clan...has—has Leliana received word from Jester yet?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” she answered. “I would imagine that if she’d heard anything bad—”

There was a knock at the door. Ellana jumped nervously. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” said Cullen as he smoothed her hair to the side and kissed the back of her neck.

“Commander?” the voice called. It belonged to his new dwarven personal assistant. Ellana had finally broken down and admitted that she didn’t remember her name. An amused Cullen, after some teasing, eventually told her: Sergeant Isana Ren. 

“Yes, Sergeant?” he asked tentatively.

“Could you tell the Lady Inquisitor that Sister Leliana has called for a meeting in the War Room to take place in one hour?”

“Of course,” Cullen answered. “Well, shit.” he added under his breath.

Ellana shrugged out of the embrace. “I have an hour. I’ll be back.”

“Don’t kill anybody,” Cullen said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I _mean_ it.”

Ellana turned and smirked at him when she reached the door. “Of course I won’t." She winked. "Probably.”

~~~

She had stalked across the courtyard on the way to the Herald’s Rest, tension recoiling itself around her neck and shoulders like a snake, fists clenched at her sides. People practically jumped out of the way to avoid being mowed down with her steely gaze. By the time she reached for the latch of the tavern door, she’d gotten herself under control somewhat, remembering that above all else, she didn't want to disappoint Cullen. She found herself clinging to the lessons she’d learned from Halamshiral. The Grand Game. A dance. She serenely walked over to Bull, who was wearing an amused expression on his face. _Almost like he was expecting me._

 _Damn Ben-Hassrath training._ “How you doing?” he said, smirking and relaxed. Today was not the day to play the Grand Game against a man who had once been one of the Qunari’s finest spies. 

She already felt off balance. She decided truth was better than tact in this situation. Bull always preferred the direct approach with her. “So...Dorian?” she asked, arching her eyebrow.

“Yep!” Bull exclaimed enthusiastically, then followed up with a deep, rumbling chuckle before clearing his throat and adopting either what was a more somber demeanor or a mockery of one. “Yes, we’ve been spending time together.” His smile spread from ear to ear, as if he couldn't help himself.

Ellana had never seen Bull like this. Either he was playing an emotional game with her like Cullen played chess or he was as bewildered and bewitched by the pairing as anyone else could have been. She hoped some humor might draw out the truth of the matter. “I suppose that’s _one_ way to improve relations between Tevinter and the Qunari,” she said with a smirk.

Bull’s mouth twitched. “You know me, Assaranda. I’m a peacemaker. Whatever differences Dorian and I have, this is a way for us to _come_ together,” he said. “You get it? ‘Cause... _yeah_.” He drew the last word out in a satisfied drawl. Perhaps noting the look of confusion on Ellana’s face, he continued. “Dorian’s a sweet guy. He’s gentle, and he _cares_ under all that bluster. I’m hoping we’re good for each other.” He smiled again, impishly this time. “Plus, I’ve never done it with a mage before. One time, he got _so_ excited, he set the curtains on fire.” Another rumbling laugh.

“Set the curtains...on _fire_?” Ellana was feeling pretty good up until that point. Now she felt reassured about Bull and Dorian, but that was no longer the problem. The problem now was the formula that was taking shape in her head: mage plus excitement equals loss of control of one’s magic. _Was that why…_

Bull must have noticed the color draining from Ellana’s face. “No one got hurt, calm down!”

“I—it’s not that,” she stammered. “Dorian set things on fire when he—”

“ _Came_ , yes.” Bull confirmed. He was quiet for a few moments. “You and Cullen haven’t—”

Ellana shook her head. “I’ve _never_...with anyone.”

Bull smiled and clapped her on the shoulder. “Well, if you need to ask questions, perhaps you should go to Cassandra or Red. Otherwise your verses in the Chant of Light might get even stranger than they probably already will be. A Qunari gives the Herald of Andraste the Sex Talk. I can see it now.”

Ellana’s fears and frustrations came tumbling out. “He—he wants to wait—well, that’s not _entirely_ true, he...Dorian told him we should...abstain...until the worst of his lyrium withdrawal symptoms are over.” She scratched her head thoughtfully. “We thought, well, I thought _he_ was going to be the issue, but it sounds like that may not be the case. I—oh Creators!” she settled into the chair next to him and buried her face in her folded arms as she rested them on the table. “I don’t want to hit him with a bolt of lightning. He's already so afraid of magic. I can't imagine—”

“His first time would be the last time,” Bull chuckled. “Take it easy, Assaranda. It might not be as bad as all that. There are different kinds of electricity. Perhaps you may be able to let it out in a less...lethal form. I don’t know. Not my area of expertise.”

She looked up in surprise. “His... _first_?” Ellana was puzzled. _Surely Bull is mistaken. Everywhere Cullen goes, stories of women (and men) throwing themselves at him have followed to the point that it's become a running joke amongst the members of the Inner Circle._

The Qunari smirked. “I suspect the lyrium withdrawal isn’t the only reason why he’s been hesitant. This is as new to him as it is to you.” He scratched at one of his horns. “And then there’s the shit that went down at Kinloch Hold.” Bull shook his head and exhaled sharply. “All the expectations on him...must be paralyzing sometimes.” He looked up at her. “Both of you are under a lot of pressure. Normally, I’m not one to argue for restraint, but I think you both could benefit from it, if you’re not just looking for a casual thing. Neither one of you seem like the casual type, though..” 

Ellana had not been expecting the conversation to turn that way. She was somewhat comforted by Bull’s refreshing honesty, but felt as though he’d extracted a payment for the information she’d sought. _Perhaps I should speak to Dorian._

~~~

Ellana twisted her hands nervously. Cullen was worried enough about her that he chose to forgo any semblance of formality at the War Room meeting and wrapped her in his arms while Leliana prepared to read the report she’d received out of Wycome.

“Nightingale,  
Our operatives harassed the enemy and created enough confusion for the Dalish to withdraw safely to a more defensible area.  
After investigation, your suspicions were correct: these are bandits in name only. Though they wear no colors, they are mercenaries, bought and paid for by Duke Antoine of Wycome himself. It is unclear what caused Antoine to turn on the Dalish, but he should not be trusted. In public, he fully supports the Inquisition, even pledging gold to our coffers, but he has a private agenda, currently unknown.  
I can continue gathering information, but suspicions in Wycome are high after the bandits ran into trouble, and any sabotage inside the city runs a high risk of detection.  
Jester”

 _Her people are safe, that’s what matters_. Cullen relaxed somewhat as he sought to control his breathing. Though he kept (or at least tried to keep) it all inside for Ellana’s sake, Cullen was livid with the Duke. He wanted nothing more than to tear the man apart with his bare hands. He was about to open his mouth to suggest marching on Wycome when Leliana spoke. 

“For the moment, I’m afraid the Commander should exempt himself from action.”

“ _What_?!!” he snapped. “Her people were nearly massacred!” He looked at the Ambassador with a pleading expression.

“I’m afraid I have to concur with Leliana, Commander,” Josephine said sadly.

“Why?” Cullen asked.

“If you could see yourself in a mirror, you’d have your answer,” Leliana answered. “Your face is all mottled with rage. If you go rushing in like that, you’re going to be reckless. Not only could you get Clan Lavellan killed, but Ellana could lose you as well. Is that what you want?” She did not wait for an answer. “ _Restraint_ is needed.”

Ellana whispered, “Well, if we’re not going to do a military strike, then what are my options?”

“It is risky, but I could attempt to send assassins to end Duke Antoine and his threats to your Clan,” Leliana replied.

“The very model of restraint.” Cullen grumbled and rolled his eyes.

“It’s restrained! It’s a dagger to the throat in the dead of night instead of dropping a boulder on him with the words ‘From the Dalish Inquisitor’s boyfriend’ stamped on it,” she snapped. “I’m sure that would go over beautifully with their human soldiers.”

“Everybody calm down,” Josephine said smoothly. “I may have something. Wycome believes himself an ally of the Inquisition, yes? My ambassadors can go where Leliana's agents cannot. We need more information before we can act, and if we kill the Duke now, with all the suspicion and the the anti-elven sentiment running rampant, Clan Lavellan will pay the price.” She looked up from her clipboard and fixed both Ellana and Cullen in a sympathetic gaze. “Please, let me send Lady Guinevere Volant. She has just the guile and the subtlety needed for this task. You will have your satisfaction, if you only wait for the right time.”

~~~

Cullen was late meeting Ellana and Dorian for lunch, so she decided to take the opportunity to get his side of things with Bull.

“Nobody’s peeled a grape for me in _weeks_!” Dorian sighed as he popped one of the fruits into his mouth. He looked up at Ellana and winked. “It’s all right, though. I’ve come to enjoy the taste and texture of the skin.”

Ellana smirked, “That’s not _all_ I heard you’ve come to enjoy.”

“You’ve been talking to Bull then, I take it?” Dorian asked. He sighed. “If only there was a single discreet bone in that lummox. Err...do you _truly_ want to know? Is this an _official_ concern, or…?”

Ellana giggled. “I’m asking you as your _friend_ , Dorian. Your happiness is important to me, and, well, I feel I should know more about what’s going on in your life.”

“I didn’t want _anyone_ to know about this,” Dorian replied. “Just like I wouldn’t want anyone to know I fancy Fereldan beer.”

Ellana held her hands to her cheeks in feigned shock. “Oh! For _shame_ , Dorian!”

Dorian shrugged. “Well, it’s something. A whole _lot_ of something.” 

He rubbed the back of his neck just like Cullen. Ellana smiled at all the ways everyone was influencing each other. Every member of the Inner Circle would be changed by the others. Dorian continued, “At first, it was an ill-considered night after drinking. Then there was a second time, and then...I—” His voice suddenly took on a vulnerable quality to it. “I don’t know what’s ‘going on’, to be honest. I suspect neither does The Bull.” Dorian chuckled. “Now that I’ve said it out loud, my ancestors are officially turning over in their graves. Ah, well.”

“What’s this about your ancestors?” Cullen asked as he approached the table with a cheeky grin. Dorian clapped his hand over Ellana’s mouth before she could tell him.


	9. Where the Light Enters You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen gets through the worst of his lyrium withdrawal and comes out the other side.

It was early. Sunrise. But Cullen wasn't in his office.

“Inquisitor Lavellan?” Sergeant Ren addressed her from the corner of the room. “The Commander took a walk out on the battlements. He shouldn't be too far, if you want to catch up to him.”

~~~

Cullen closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This morning marked two weeks since he’d had tremors or cravings. A change in the breeze told him that was Ellana was approaching, a peculiar and beguiling side-effect of her personal brand of magic. _She will never be able to sneak up on me_. Cullen smiled to himself. Even though he had given up his Templar abilities, the Maker chose to bless him with her and all the wonderful things she did to him and everything that surrounded her so that the very air heralded her presence. And if that hadn't been enough, she’d given him the strength to endure, the space to be vulnerable. His heart swelled with affection.

_Maker’s Mercy, I love her so much_!

He turned to greet her, stifling a smile at her surprised expression.

~~~

Cullen turned and smiled at her before she could even say anything. “I wanted to thank you…” he stammered, “when you...when you were there for me...you didn't let me give up...if there’s anything…” he sighed. “This sounded much better in my head.”

Ellana’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. She reached up and tangled her fingers in Cullen’s hair. “How about you _show_ first, then tell? That might hel—”

She was interrupted by Cullen’s show of gratitude as he captured her mouth with his and wrapped his arms firmly around her waist, almost crushing her to him. “One of these days,” he murmured between kisses, “we’ll have to do this with my armor off.   
With... _everything_...off.” He growled and glanced up at his tower. “Preferably sooner rather than later.”

Ellana smirked against his lips. “Don’t tease me.” She drew his lower lip into her mouth and sucked it gently before releasing it. “We _both_ know that’s off limits.”

“Not anymore,” he whispered, his lips slowly spreading into a luminous smile. “I haven’t had a craving in weeks.” He held up his hand in front of her face. “Look, Ellana! No tremors.” He rained down joyful kisses on her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks.

She could scarcely believe her ears. “You’re feeling better? _All_ better?”

Cullen tilted his head. “Yes. Well, I still get headaches from time to time, but it’s like night and day. I just—I should not have pushed myself so far that day.”

Ellana blinked, afraid to let herself be happy about the good news, as if acknowledging it would make it disappear. Her eyes stung and blurred, so she kept blinking. She didn't realize she was crying until Cullen leaned in and began to kiss the tears from her   
cheeks. “Are you _sure_?” she asked, trembling.

He ran his fingers through her hair, marveling at the halo the sunrise adorned her with. “I am,” he answered simply, before turning her around so he could hold her from behind and they could both watch the sun come up. “I've never told anyone what truly happened to me at Ferelden’s Circle. I was...not myself after that. I was _angry_. For years, that anger blinded me. I’m not proud of the man that made me. The way I saw mages..." He shook his head. "When I...when I left you in Kirkwall, it wasn't because I didn't want you. It was because I knew that I was not capable of caring for you in the way that you deserved. I would have hurt you. And the thought of that... _sickens_ me.” He paused. The lump forming in his throat was making it difficult for him to speak. He tapped his fingers over her heart, his way of wordlessly telling her he wasn't finished yet, until he regained his composure. “Seeing you again, being with you, having a second chance after all these years...even though I’m happy that we’re together now, to know that we could have had more time with each other if it hadn't been for—”

Ellana turned around, stood on tiptoe and kissed him. Cullen moaned into her mouth, lifted her by her waist and sat her down on the battlement wall. She responded by wrapping her legs around his waist and drawing him as close to her as possible before breaking the kiss. “Cullen Stanton Rutherford," she whispered, as she rested her forehead against his. "I am _so_ proud of you. What matters to me is that you are well and happy and that we are together. Don’t regret who you were in the past. It brought you here, molded you into the man I love—”

Cullen shook his head with bewilderment. “...why? Why do you love me so much?”

Ellana stroked his cheek and looked into his eyes. “Becaus despite everything that’s happened to you, it hasn’t hardened your heart. You are gentle and kind and compassionate. In this world, with all its hardships, _that_ is true strength. Your innate goodness and decency shines out of you like the sun. Everyone can see it. Your men see it, and that’s why they follow you.” She smiled. “You’re funny and sweet and thoughtful and…” she kissed the tip of his nose. “... _devastatingly_ handsome.” She snorted and rolled her eyes. “And If you think being the Inquisitor is dangerous, I shudder to think what life would be like if I was _just_ your Dalish girlfriend. The death threats might actually _increase_.”

Cullen tried to stay serious, but the laughter came bubbling out from his lips and rang against the stones. Then he took her hand in his and kissed her fingertips. “I know you've been...keeping your troubles from me. How are you holding up?”

Ellana smirked. “You have a few hours to spare?”


	10. Little White Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana works to reconcile Cassandra and Varric after a falling out over Hawke.

Ellana entered the armory to the sounds of a struggle taking place two floors above. She was beginning to think of the place as bad luck. Concerned, she ran up the stairs to see Cassandra manhandling Varric.

“You knew where Hawke was all along!” cried Cassandra.

“You’re damned right I did!” snapped Varric.

“You conniving little _shit_!” Cassandra snarled before swinging a closed fist at Varric. He was spry or at least lucky, enough to duck away and out of her reach.

Varric darted behind a table “You kidnapped me! You _interrogated_ me! What did you expect!”

Ellana did not like this development. At all. “Hey! Enough!” she shouted as she interposed herself between her friends, Anchor flickering in her palm. 

Cassandra was outraged. “You’re taking _his_ side?”

The Anchor started crackling with more intensity, spreading to the rest of Ellana’s hand. “I said, ENOUGH!”

Cassandra ceased the physical violence but continued to go on the offensive. “We needed someone to lead this Inquisition. First, Leliana and I tried to contact Queen Elissa, but she had vanished. Then we looked for Hawke, but she was gone, too. We thought it all connected, but no.” She stared at Varric with such vitriol and hatred and Ellana became sick to her stomach. “It was just you. You kept her from us.”

Varric gestured to Ellana. “The Inquisition has a leader!”

“Hawke would have been at the Conclave!” Cassandra argued. “If _anyone_ could have saved Most Holy…” 

“What’s done is done,”snapped Ellana, her voice trembling with emotion. “You wanted Hawke, you got me instead. Sorry if that disappoints you.”

Cassandra’s eyes widened as it seemed to dawn on her that in her efforts to hurt Varric, she’d wounded Ellana instead. “Ellana, I—”

But the Inquisitor held up her hand. “I’m not done. No amount of yelling or hitting is going to bring the Divine back. It’s over. She’s _gone_.”

Cassandra looked as if she’d been struck. “What are you saying, that the Maker _wanted_ this to happen? That He—that he—” She looked down, and for a moment she looked like she might cry, but then she looked back up, her eyes hard with indignation. “Varric is a liar, Ellana. A _snake_. Even after the Conclave, when we needed her most, Varric kept her secret.”

“She’s with us now!” Varric replied. “We’re on the same side.”

“We all know who’s side you’re on, Varric,” growled Cassandra. “It will never be the Inquisition’s.”

Ellana took a deep breath. “Are you two done? Because now _I_ would like to say a few things.” She looked from Varric to Cassandra and back. “Sit. Down. _Now_.”

After they complied, she continued. “First of all, Cassandra, Varric _is_ on the Inquisition’s side. The first day I fought alongside you, you were actually trying to _kick him out_. He _chose_ to stay. He wanted to help. If he wasn’t on our side, he could have just taken you at your word and left for Kirkwall. Creators know he’d probably rather be _there_ than here. But instead, Varric has been invaluable in building camaraderie in the Inquisition.”

“Thank you,” said Varric.

“Shut up,” Ellana snapped, rounding on him and pointing her finger. “Now it’s your turn. She’s right. You should have said something after the Conclave. Even if Hawke didn’t agree to be Inquisitor, we could have used her help.”

“She’s helping now, what more do you _want_?” asked Varric.

“What more do I—we could have used her at Haven. Maybe we could have saved more lives if she’d been there too. We could have been stronger where we weren’t. And you saw how torn up Cassandra and Leliana were after Justinia died! Didn’t you care? You know who got to bear the brunt of their wrath?" Ellana pounded her fist on the table. "Me. Thanks a lot. You would put Hawke up on a pedestal while the rest of us slid into the Abyss. At the very least, you could have contacted her and given her the choice instead of infantilizing her—”

“She’s my best friend! I was protecting her! The only way I knew how!” cried Varric.

“People are _dead_ , Varric.” Ellana replied quietly. “Try justifying your actions to them, or to their families.” 

Cassandra sighed. “You’re right. I must not think of what could have been. So much is at stake,” her voice took on an air of quiet devastation. “Go, Varric. Just...go.”

Varric retreated towards the stairs, then turned. “You know what I think? If Hawke had been at the Temple, she’d be dead, too. You people have done _enough_ to her.”

After the door slammed downstairs, a tear plinked against Cassandra’s gauntlet. “I... _believed_ him.” She got up and began to pace the room. “He spun his story for me and I swallowed it. If I’d just _explained_ what was at stake...if I’d just made him understand...but I didn’t, did I?” She crouched to the ground in despair. “I didn’t explain _why_ we needed Hawke. I am _such_ a fool.”

“What if you hadn’t believed him and you tracked Hawke down?” Ellana asked, crouching in front of Cassandra and grasping her by the shoulder.

Pausing to think about the reality of the matter seemed to lighten Cassandra somewhat. “Honestly, Hawke might not have even agreed to become Inquisitor. She supported the Mage Rebellion, after all. She wouldn’t have trusted me for a second. But this isn’t about Hawke, or even Varric. Not truly. I should have been more careful. I should have been smarter.” She sobbed. “I don’t deserve to be here!”

It was Ellana’s turn to sling Cassandra’s arm across her shoulders and lift her to her feet before wrapping her in a warm embrace. “Have you _looked_ at our Inquisition, Cassandra?” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “We’re _all_ fools here.”

Cassandra half-laughed, half-sobbed. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Ellana smirked. “More at home, maybe.”

Cassandra’s face slowly melted into a radiant smile. _She should smile more often. Cassandra is beautiful when she smiles._ The Seeker fixed Ellana in her gaze. “I want you to know, I have no regrets. I don’t think anyone else in the Inquisition does either.” She nudged Ellana in the ribs playfully. “Cullen certainly doesn’t.” Cassandra laughed briefly, but quickly grew serious again. “Maker, I don’t know _what_ he would have done without you. And Dorian...I think if you had not been here to smooth things out for him, he would have been very lonely. Sera would have been causing more mayhem than she already is. Vivienne would be intolerable. Cole...we probably would have sent him away.” She looked at Ellana seriously. “I was wrong about him, too.” Cassandra sighed. “Maybe if we'd found Hawke or the Queen, the Maker wouldn't have needed to send you, but He did. I don't know what is to come, but you're more than I could have hoped for.”

~~~

Ellana sat on Cullen’s desk, snuggling Samahl while Cullen wielded a jury-rigged lure to tease Sulahn. “Varric wasn’t at Sing-quisition practice this afternoon,” he said, right before enticing the kitten into joining his brother in Ellana’s lap.

She sighed. “He and Cassandra had a big fight over Hawke. She didn’t kill him, but it wasn’t pretty.”

Cullen sat next to Ellana and she leaned her head on his shoulder as she continued, “To tell the truth, both of them are right...and wrong. I can understand Varric wanting to protect Hawke after everything she’s been through, but after the Conclave...we could have used her.”

“We did all right without her,” Cullen replied, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Personally, I’m glad that Hawke didn’t end up as the Inquisitor. For one thing, getting called Commander Noodle Hair every day would have likely undermined my authority with the troops,” he smirked. “Also, if she were Inquisitor, _you_ wouldn’t be here, probably. And that’s just unacceptable. Who would I kiss?” He leaned in and captured Ellana’s lips with his own. 

In between kisses, Ellana giggled. “I’m glad we’re alone. If anyone else were in earshot, we’d make them sick from the sweetness.”

Cullen shucked off his cloak and placed it on the desk next to them, lifted the kittens out of Ellana’s lap and laid them gently on his cloak. “We _are_ alone, aren’t we?” he whispered before dipping down to lick her from her collarbone up to her ear. 

“Mmmmmaker’s breath,” Ellana moaned, her hands sliding up to tangle themselves in his hair.

Cullen chuckled softly, his hand just ghosting over Ellana’s left breast. “If this keeps up, you’ll be reciting the Chant while I make you— _argh_!”

At his yelp, Ellana’s eyes flew open. 

She would have laughed, had she not been mortified. Cullen’s hair stood on end, his previously tamed locks gone all frizzy. “What. Did you do?” he asked.

Ellana bit her lip and withdrew her fingers from his scalp. Tiny currents of pink lightning danced along her fingertips and down her arms. “Oh, no,” she whimpered.

“Did—did you _know_ that could happen?” Cullen asked, patting his hair frantically.

She shook her head. “No, you’re the only one I’ve ever done _anything_ like this with. I—I had no idea! Cullen, I’m _so_ sorry!”

Cullen was drawing panicked breaths, his eyes dilated with what Ellana could only guess was fear. “You know how I _feel_ about this sort of thing, Ellana.”

She was crestfallen. When she spoke, her voice came out small. “I thought you said that my being a mage didn’t bother you.”

“That was before you struck me with lightning for kissing you!” he panted. He shook his head. “I think you should go. I—I need to calm down and I can’t do that with you here.”

Ellana burst into tears. She held out her arms to him. “Cullen, please!”

He shuddered and looked away. “Please go.”

~~~

Ellana didn’t want to see or hear anything from anyone. She didn’t want to go to her room; people would look for her there. If she could have physically crawled under a rock and stayed there, she would have. She finally found a decent hiding place, the wine cellar, and resolved to stay there _forever_. 

Or at least until she got hungry. 

She had been sitting in the dark, sobbing, for about an hour when she was found by the last person she’d thought would look for her: Sister Leliana.

“Ellana?” She stood in the doorway, holding a candle aloft that created a halo around her. “I thought I’d find you here.” She smiled gently.

“How is that?” mumbled Ellana.

“Because it’s the last place where anyone who knows you would look,” Leliana said, and crouched next to her. “Naturally, I thought that would be where I would find you.”

Ellana snorted bitterly. “Didn’t take long to send out a search party. I guess that’s the peril of being the person who has to save the world. You become invaluable. People notice if you go missing.”

“It’s not much of a search party,” Leliana replied. “Just me.”

Ellana raised an eyebrow. “Did Cullen send you?”

Leliana sighed. “Yes and no. Cullen was late to our weekly appointment. I went to his office to check on him only to find him vomiting into a bucket.”

“Lovely,” Ellana groaned. “I make him sick.” She was quiet for a moment. “Do you know how I became First of Clan Lavellan?”

“You are the Stormbringer,” answered Leliana. “And you protected your Clan from Blood Mages with the Litany of Adralla that Cullen...procured for you.”

“That’s part of it, yes,” said Ellana. “You know the rules the Dalish have about not having too many mages in a clan? You can only have three at any given time. No, Leliana. The main reason is that my parents left the Clan. First my mother, when I manifested my magic at age _six_. Evariel was a late bloomer, so father left when we were eight. They thought it would be better than sending us away at such a young age. The Keeper is my grandmother, you see, and my parents wanted us to stay with family rather than be raised by strangers.” She fell silent again as she leaned her head back against the cold stone wall and the tears began to stream down her face. “My magic drove my parents away. And now...now Cullen. I haven’t felt like this since the day my mother rode away.”

“I know,” Leliana replied. “Cole told me about your mother. And it’s raining outside. It rains when you are sad,” the Nightingale said with a wry smile. “But let me explain something to you about Cullen. Since he came to the Inquisition, he’s been coming to me every week for counsel, in an effort to purge his trauma in regards to magic. Demons did... _terrible_ things to him. He’s come a long way, but...I take it that’s the first time that’s ever happened to you?”

Ellana bit her lip. “Sometimes the lightning comes out when I’m angry. But I don’t remember it being so erratic before I got the Anchor. This is the first time it’s ever come out when I—um…”

Leliana snorted. “Andraste’s Mercy. You’re both virgins.”

Ellana blushed furiously and looked down at her hands.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Ellana,” Leliana said reassuringly. “It’s actually kind of...romantic. Virgins are wonderful. It’s like unwrapping a present.”

“I’m not going to be unwrapping _anything_ now,” Ellana grumbled.

“Nonsense,” The Nightingale retorted. “You and I are going to have a little chat. And remember the power of intention. Magic is all about setting an intention and carrying it out with your will, no? So, if your magic should...leak...you can direct it into a more...pleasing form.”

~~~

“The Herald of Andraste gets The Sex Talk from the Left Hand of the Divine,” Ellana chortled to herself as she made her way to court. “That will make an interesting addition to the Chant.”

Varric noticed her approach too late to make himself scarce, so Ellana approached him tentatively. “Cassandra’s calmed down. I think you can take your hand off your crossbow.”

Varric grimaced. “Define ‘calmed down’ for me in terms of who or what she’s punching right now. I wasn’t _trying_ to keep secrets. I told the Inquisition everything that seemed important at the time.”

Ellana sighed. Intent. “I know, Varric. You never would have kept quiet otherwise.”

“I keep hoping none of this is real,” he grunted. “Maybe it’s all some bullshit from the Fade and it’ll just disappear. I know I need to do better. I’m sorry.”

Ellana pulled Varric in for a hug. “You should talk to her. She feels awful about what she said and I’m sure you regret some things too.”

“Hmph,” Varric scoffed. “The Seeker and I are on as good of terms as we’re going to get.”

“ _Varric_ …” Ellana dropped her voice low. “You _just_ said that you need to do better. Making up with Cassandra would be a start. I promise that no harm will come to you. You might...be surprised, that’s all I’m saying.” She drew back and lifted his chin so she could look him in the eyes. “Please.”

~~~

Ellana hid behind a bush and watched as, later that afternoon, Varric approached Cassandra where she was practicing outside the armory. She looked surprised to see him. Ellana strained to hear what was being said to no avail. What she saw, though...Varric taking Cassandra’s hand and caressing it gently, Cassandra bursting into tears and Varric tugging her down to her knees so that he could give her a hug. They stood like that together for a long time, whispering to each other while Varric stroked her hair. Satisfied, Ellana turned on her heel to leave…

...and ran straight into Cullen, who dropped to his knees and embraced her around her waist. “Abelas,” he whispered. “Abelas, emma lath.”

Ellana reflexively stroked his hair and he shuddered under her touch. “Cullen,” she whispered, “people will _see_ —”

“I don’t care,” he said, his voice husky and low. “You have bewitched me and I belong to you, heart and soul.” He took her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist tenderly before holding her hand to his cheek. “Anyone who hasn't figured that out yet is either blind or stupid, and I have no patience for either.”

“What do you want?” Ellana asked softly, marveling at the sight of this strapping human before her so utterly at her mercy, as much so as she was at his.

“You mean other than your forgiveness?” Cullen asked, looking up at her with a smirk. “Because I should think that was obvious.”

“Ugh,” Ellana grunted, tugging under Cullen’s arms. “Get up, you’ve made your point. Crazy shem.”

When he stood up, he lifted her into his arms and cradled her to him before turning and walking towards the main building. She giggled, “What are you doing?”

“Taking you to bed, my lady,” he replied.

“But Cullen,” she said, worry creeping into her voice. “My magic...it’s unstable.”

“I know. Leliana told me,” he answered as he began to ascend the stairs.

“For being a spymaster, she’s terrible about keeping secrets.” Ellana grumbled. “So what are we supposed to do about the lightning?” she asked.

Cullen reached the top of the stairs, looked into her eyes and kissed her. “Practice,” he whispered against her lips.


	11. The Lion’s Gambit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Ellana ready themselves for a confrontation with Samson.

“So tell me, Leliana, as a bard, what do you see going on with her?” Cullen asked, lying back on the couch.

Sister Nightingale sat in her armchair kitty corner to the couch where Cullen lay. “Excitement.” Her lips curled into a mischievous smile. “Lust. Desire.” She took a sip of tea. “ _Fear_.”

Cullen turned to look at her. “Fear? She's not afraid of anything.”

“She wasn't. Not until she had something, or rather some _one_ , to lose. This is all new territory for her,” she chuckled softly. “The fear itself is, as you say, likely new to her as well. Ellana has no idea how to process any of this. You will have to be patient with her. Walk her through it.”

Cullen grunted. “I don't know what I'm doing any more than she does.”

Leliana smiled. “So you make your discoveries together, but try to be the one in control. That should ease her fears and prevent you from being triggered as well.” She sat back in her chair with a satisfied expression.

He turned back around and looked up at the ceiling with a smirk. “You're enjoying this _way_ too much.”

Leliana smiled. “I enjoy nurturing love to blossom. I haven't had this much fun since Alistair and Elissa.” She sighed. “They were so. _Adorable_!”

"Ugh. Here we go.” Cullen groaned and shut his eyes. “Are you going to tell me about that blasted rose? Again?”

“Alistair was awkward, but so sincere.” Leliana reminisced. “Unafraid to make an arse out of himself as long as he let her know how he felt. He worshipped Elissa, put her up on a pedestal, believed that she could do anything. We _all_ did.” She laughed and raised an eyebrow. “Familiar, no?”

“Are we done? Can I _go_ now?” Cullen grumbled.

Leliana rolled her eyes and waved him off. “You have _no_ sense of romance.”

Cullen smirked as he walked out the door. Ellana was coming home to him after two weeks in Orlais. He couldn’t wait to hold her again.

~~~

Ellana arrived from the Emprise du Lion after having destroyed the Red Templars’ red lyrium hoard exhausted but armed with important information about Samson. That night, she slept soundly in Cullen's arms while he read the correspondences she'd found in the Sahrnia Quarry. It looked like Samson was making his headquarters at the Temple of Dumat. _All too easy_ , Cullen chuckled to himself.

And then he turned the pages over. There was a coded message written in a crisp hand on the back of each message. Cullen recognized the symbols from his time in the Kirkwall Circle. Knight-Commander Meredith was paranoid, and required that all communiques between Templars be written in cryptogram.

And then it dawned on him. Samson _wanted_ those letters found. 

Frantically, Cullen sorted through the papers and began to piece together a message:

" _Commander_ ,

_How are those tremors_? _Dalish is still with you, I see. Patient girl. Affectionate. Beautiful._

_Soft lips. Laughter like a bubbling brook. She is unspeakably lovely in the lavender armor you had custom made for her._

_She is better than you deserve and is capable of more than you can possibly imagine. A goddess. Deigning to let you touch her._

_But even gods can be killed._

_I will take her from you when it hurts the most._

_See you soon._

_Samson_."

Cullen shuddered with rage. He shook so hard that he woke Ellana, who did her best to ease his mind, wrapping him in a sleepy embrace that grew torrid as it went on. He was tempted, so tempted to sink himself deep within her waiting warmth, to take her then and there, afraid that if he didn’t, he would lose her forever. Cullen was incensed that Samson was able to get to him in that way and resolved to end things as soon as possible. When Ellana went to the Temple of Dumat to confront Samson, he would be there by her side. And nothing, short of the Maker himself, would stop him from beating Samson to death for _daring_ to threaten his love.

~~~

In the morning, Ellana awoke in Cullen’s arms. He pressed a kiss to her temple before launching straight into business. “I can’t stop reading the letters you found in the quarry,” he whispered. “Samson was making red lyrium from _people_?”

“Not anymore,” she replied sleepily. “Miners rescued. Mines went boom. Varric very happy.” Ellana frowned and closed her eyes again, still tired and sore from the previous two weeks away. “Need tea.”

“I’ll have some sent up.” He ran his fingers through his hair, nervously tousling it. “I knew Samson had fallen, but this? It’s monstrous. We _have_ to put an end to him.”

“ _We_?” came Ellana’s muffled voice.

“Yes, _we_.” Cullen replied. “I’m not sending you after him alone. The specifications for Samson’s armor...they’re extraordinary. He’s practically indestructible.”

“We’ve already cut him off from his lyrium,” Ellana muttered, struggling to get to a seated position leaning against the gilded Orlesian headboard. “Now we just need to break his armor.”

Cullen smirked. “Yes, it’s so simple. Just like that, armor goes _boom_.” He chuckled softly and rolled his eyes. “Templars are trained not to destroy expensive magical equipment, Ellana. Unless…” His eyes widened. “Dagna! She crafts the impossible every day. With enough time and resources, I’m sure she could come up with _something_.”

“I’ll have a talk with her,” Ellana replied and started to get up from the bed, only for Cullen to catch her by the wrist.

“Later,” he whispered, as he pulled her back down to the bed so that she was lying on her back. As he straddled her hips, he stretched her arms above her head and purred in her ear. “First, we practice. Remember to breathe.”

~~~

Cullen sent Samson’s armor specs to Dagna, and about two hours later, Ellana met her in the undercroft. “Well, did you find anything useful about Samson?”

Dagna gave her a look Ellana wasn’t used to seeing. A look full of disbelief. “He _should_ be dead. You could make a hat out of red lyrium and kill people, especially the wearer. Samson’s armor…” her voice took on a tone of awe, “...it’s _genius_. To do all this and _not_ go insane? He must be resistant. Or he is insane. Or both!”

Ellana grimaced. “Not helping.”

Dagna rolled her eyes. “Oh, fine. I just need time. And tools. People. And red lyrium. For testing purposes.”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Ellana replied.

“Everything is safe if handled properly,” said Dagna. “And you don’t touch it long. Or breathe it. I mentioned the hat, right? No hat.” She chuckled goodnaturedly. “Time and resources, Lady Lavellan. I’ll get what you want. Now shoo!” she exclaimed, her face splitting into a winning grin. “I’ve got work to do.”

~~~

That afternoon in the War Room, Josephine shared correspondence from the ambassador she’d sent to investigate the Duke of Wycome. She cleared her throat and read the correspondence aloud:

“Ambassador Montilyet,  
Duke Antoine has been a most charming and gracious host, and has made himself a friend, indeed, to the Inquisition. His city is a wonder, and he was quite keen to display some of the improvements he has made recently. Of particular note are the wells, which use a _red crystal_ to purify the water from which all humans in the city drink. Duke Antoine has not yet made these improvements to the wells from which the elves in the alienage drink.

The Duke assures me that concerns about some sort of disease affecting his city are wholly overblown, and has quite convinced me that his plans to rid the city of "the rats causing the problem" should be underway quite soon.

I continue to enjoy my visit to Wycome, and I confess that I hope I do _not_ hear the noisy clatter of the Inquisition's armored _troops_ ruining my quiet afternoons. The elves of Clan Lavellan, by contrast, are quiet, like their poor cousins here in Wycome's alienage, and it might be a welcome _change_ to my daily _regime_ to see them in the future.

Yours in haste,  
Lady Guinevere Volant”

It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. Finally Ellana spoke. “Can I see the letter, Josie?”

The ambassador handed the correspondence to the Inquisitor, who read it carefully. She smiled. “Clever girl,” Ellana whispered, handing the letter to Leliana. “This one’s yours.”

“Leliana murmured as she read the letter. “No troops.”

“Oh, _come_ on!” Cullen groaned.

“All in good time, Commander,” said Leliana, still concentrating. “Ellana, how skilled are your clan’s hunters?”

“Excellent shots and silent as the grave,” Ellana answered. “Why?”

“My scouts could get the Dalish hunters inside the city. Assassinate the Duke and his personal guard. _Now_ is the time for a regime change.”

Ellana nodded. “Josephine, I have something for you.” She handed her a stack of notes. “From Dagna.”

“ _Wonderful_.” Josephine groaned.

“You don’t have to understand it, Josie.” Ellana said with a smirk. “Just follow her instructions to the letter.”

“What about me?” asked Cullen.

“You can send your men to the Ylenn Basin,” Ellana replied with a wink, handing him a letter from Dowager Lady Mantillon. “I think it’s time the Inquisition started acquiring property outside Skyhold.”

~~~

“Dagna needs more details on the armor,” Cullen sighed into Ellana’s ear. 

“When you said you wanted to debrief me, this wasn’t what I had in mind.” Ellana giggled. “Is now _really_ the time to talk about this?”

“Mmm,” he smiled against her skin. “I’m testing to see if distracting you helps.” He suckled at the pulse in her neck. “Do you want me to stop?”

“It’s difficult to get too excited when you’re whispering sweet nothings in my ear about red lyrium, mon chevali _AAAAAYYY_ ,” her whisper grew into a wanton moan as Cullen rolled his hips against hers. 

It was Cullen’s turn to laugh. “I’m sorry, what was that?” He thrust again and was rewarded with another ecstatic cry from Ellana. “I didn’t hear you,” he said in a husky growl before continuing. “Anyway, those notes you found... _ohhhh_...what—what _was_ that?” he asked, intrigued.

Cullen looked up to see purple-pink sparks trickling out from Ellana’s hands and dancing down his own arms. He gasped softly, but stayed in place, watching them curiously. This new electricity that radiated from her body and capered down his own then whirled around them...it was... _delicious_ to him, like a thousand kisses on his skin. He moaned and grasped at the sheets on either side of Ellana’s head.. “Maker’s Breath! _What_ was I talking about?”

Ellana laughed wickedly. “Serves you right. No more business in bed.” Her hands now free, she tossed his papers into the air and onto the floor, then tilted her head up and licked the length of his scar.

She was rewarded with much enthusiasm.

~~~

“I never thought I’d see the day that I actually set foot in Tevinter,” Ellana whispered as they approached the Shrine of Dumat. 

“This is where it all started,” Dorian murmured. “The fall of your people and the rise of mine.”

Cullen opened the huge doors in front of them only to be greeted by fire and destruction within. “This is it. The heart of Samson’s Command.”

Ellana peered inside. “I don’t see any sign of him.”

“Nor I,” Cullen replied. “Maker, tell me he hasn’t fled...”

There was no Samson, but he’d been kind enough to leave an entire retinue of Red Templar horrors and a behemoth to greet them. “How thoughtful! Samson sent a welcoming committee!” Ellana shouted as she shocked half a dozen Red Templars into place. She watched, rapt, as Cullen cut them down in a matter of seconds, demonstrating just why he was the Commander of the Inquisition.

“You _could_ leave some for me, Commander!” shouted Cassandra rushing from place to place, trying to pin down an opponent.

“Just go for the stragglers, Seeker!” Varric exclaimed, squeezing off a shot to the head of a red templar soldier. “That’s what I always do!”

Any time a new wave of Samson’s forces were sent to them, Ellana and Dorian set them up and Cullen (and to a lesser extent, Cassandra) knocked them down. After sending a chain of lightning surging through foes that fell by Cullen’s sword before she could reach them, Ellana grunted, “Showoff!”

“Are you _jealous_ , Inquisitor?” Cullen teased.

“Maybe a little bit, Commander,” she replied with a smirk, striking a horror down with a bolt of lightning. “Now I’m a somewhat glad you don’t accompany me on a regular basis. All I’d get to do is stand behind and watch you leave carnage in your wake.”

Cullen laughed and bashed a templar to the ground before smashing his shield on top of him. “You don’t _like_ to watch me?”

Ellana blushed and phased through a red templar behemoth, damaging him greatly but not killing him. “I didn’t say that. You just...steal my thunder is all.”

“Then keep up, _Inquisitor_ ,” Cullen said with a wink as he finished off the behemoth by beheading him.

“Maker, are you two _flirting_? Now?” Cassandra groaned.

“ _Maybe_ …” Cullen replied. He held his shield in front of Ellana protectively and kept her close to him as they walked inside the temple proper. He didn’t want to take any chances in case of an ambush. 

Ellana peered inside at the smoldering remains of the shrine. "It looks like it's already been destroyed," she observed.

"Samson must have ordered his Templars to sack his headquarters so we couldn't," Cullen replied.

"Sorry, Curly. Someone tipped off Samson you were coming," said Varric.

"I think you're right," agreed Cullen. "Still, we've dealt Samson a blow."

As they wandered further in, they came upon Samson's inner sanctum, and an exhausted looking mage. He sat on the floor of the red lyrium-infused room, his back against the wall and looked up at Ellana. "Hello, Inquisitor," he said politely.

"How do you know me?" Ellana asked.

Cullen knelt down next to the man. "It's Maddox, Samson's Tranquil. Something's wrong. I'll send for the healers—"

"That would be a waste, Knight-Captain Cullen," Maddox replied. “I drank my entire supply of blightcap essence. It won’t be long now.”

Ellana knelt down beside Cullen, reached out and reflexively stroked Maddox on the shoulder. “We only wanted to ask you questions, Maddox.”

“Yes,” he replied. “that is what I could not allow. I destroyed the camp with fire. We all agreed it was best. Our deaths ensured Samson had time to escape.”

Cullen was outraged. “You threw your lives away? For _Samson_? Why?”

“Samson saved me even before he needed me,” answered Maddox. “He gave me purpose again. I...wanted...to help.” Then he was gone.

Cullen hung his head, more sad than angry, but quickly recovered, “We should check the camp,” he said, getting to his feet and pulling Ellana along with him. “Maddox may have missed something.”

Ellana started to walk away to begin her search, but turned and said, “We can’t leave Maddox here. He should be properly laid to rest.”

Cullen nodded. “I’ll have someone take care of it. If even Samson did his best for Maddox, we can do no less.”

Ellana searched high and low. She found—

“Lyrium bottles. Licked clean,” Cullen said.

“Drinking it, wearing it, growing it—you can’t say Samson isn’t committed,” Varric observed wryly.

“How much red lyrium is Samson _taking_?” Cullen whispered. “His resistance must be _extraordinary_.”

Then she came upon—

“A message. For me.” Cullen murmured. “From Samson.”

Ellana laid her hand on his arm. “What does it say?”

“Drink enough lyrium, and its song reveals the truth. The Chantry used us,” Cullen read aloud. “You’re fighting the wrong battle. Corypheus chose me as his General and his Vessel of Power.” There was more there, but nothing Ellana needed to hear, He folded it up and placed it in his cloak. “And other such nonsense,” he muttered. “Does he think I’ll understand? What does _he_ know?”

Finally, Ellana came upon Maddox’s room, and something else. 

“The fire couldn’t destroy these entirely,” Cullen observed. “Whatever they are.”

Dorian’s eyes widened as he ran his fingers along the objects that rested on Maddox’s table. “Those are lyrium-forging implements. Of remarkable design! Intact, they’d be worth a fortune.”

Cullen narrowed his eyes, deep in thought. “Tranquil often design their own tools. Dagna should be able to make sense of them. If Maddox used these tools to make Samson’s armor, she could use them to unmake it.” His eyes lit up and a grin spread across his face illuminated by the red lyrium and fire. “We _have_ him.”

~~~

With nothing else left to attend to in the Shrine, the company went outside. Beyond the burning temple, the stars blazed above them, embraced by auroras of red and green. 

Cullen had walked further ahead from the others, almost at the edge of the courtyard, then stopped.

“Cullen?” Ellana asked, approaching him.

Cullen was looking up at the stars, but he was not so distracted that he didn’t acknowledge her. “What a dismal place to die. It can’t have been much of a place to live, either, under Samson’s command.” He took her hand and caressed it with his own. “Did you want to ask me something?”

“Yes. The Tranquil...they cannot dream, do not desire, cannot feel,” she said. “It’s as if...their souls are... _taken_ from them.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true,” Cullen concurred.

“What happens to them when they die?” she asked softly. “According to your Chantry, when we die, we pass through the Fade on the way to the Maker. But if there’s nothing left of you that can enter the Fade…”

Cullen squeezed her hand and looked at her sadly. “I don’t know,” he whispered.


	12. Promise of Destruction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana and Cassandra track down Lord Seeker Lucius and the missing Seekers. Meanwhile, Cullen finds a way to deal with his worry while Ellana is away. Sort of.

When Ellana, Cullen, Cassandra, Varric, and Dorian arrived back at Skyhold from the Shrine of Dumat, Cassandra was ambushed and ushered into the armory by Mother Giselle for the purpose of badgering her about the possibility of becoming the next Divine. 

Ellana mouthed to Cullen, “I’ll catch up,” then phased her way into an inconspicuous place to eavesdrop. 

“Will you not consider it, Lady Cassandra?” the Reverend Mother pleaded in her most persuasive voice. “The clerics are still sequestered. If no one steps forward, they will debate until—”

Cassandra scoffed. “And you think _I_ could make them agree?" She sighed. "I've heard enough for one day, Mother Giselle."

Mother Giselle made a tactical retreat, but caught sight of Ellana. “Talk to her, Lady Inquisitor.” 

It was apparently not enough for Giselle that she had done everything just short of handing the Inquisitor’s sword to Ellana herself. Now she had designs on choosing the next Divine. Ellana would never have taken the Reverend Mother for an expert player of the Grand Game, but since Halamshiral, her eyes had become opened to such machinations. 

Ellana loved Cassandra dearly, but there was _no way_ she wanted her on the Sunburst throne, for several reasons. For one thing, Cassandra would be unhappy. So much political maneuvering, not being able to do the work herself, and having her hands tied by the Chantry again were all good reasons against such an appointment. Not to mention the rules of personal conduct that bound the Divine. Cassandra was a romantic soul and she longed for romance, though she tried to hide this fact under a tough exterior. Being the Divine would guarantee that she would never have the grand love affair she deserved, which reminded Ellana that perhaps she should consider matchmaking Cassandra with someone.

From Ellana’s own personal perspective, she also did not want Cassandra as Divine because as Inquisitor she had already set the pace for revolution across Thedas. Cassandra was a reformer, yes, but not a revolutionary. Leliana, who wanted to open the priesthood to all races, and to set the mages free, was Ellana’s choice, especially since Vivienne had begun to actively set her cap for the Sunburst Throne. 

The very thought of Vivienne as the Divine made her shudder, and as such, Ellana had given Leliana private assurances of her support were she to choose to seek the position. Of course, this would leave the Inquisition without a Spymaster, but Ellana figured she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

Ellana approached Cassandra after Mother Giselle made her exit. “The fun never ends at Skyhold, does it?”

“The Inquisitor was _hilarious_. That’s what the history books will say. You watch,” Cassandra said with a smirk. "I assume you've heard that Leliana and I are both candidates to be the next Divine. Because of what happened at Halamshiral, of course. The Empire favors you, thus everyone close to you. So now the chantry bandies our names about without even asking us first."

Ellana clapped Cassandra on the back. “You know what? We need to discuss this over drinks.”

A slow smile spread across Cassandra’s face. “It’s in the middle of the day, and you don’t drink.”

Ellana shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know, Dorian told me the Fereldan beers are actually _pretty_ good.”

Cassandra threw her head back and laughed, then Seeker and Inquisitor walked into the Herald’s Rest to unwind.

~~~

Seeing two of the most powerful members of the Inquisition letting loose in public was surprisingly good for morale, _especially_ after Sera joined them by overseeing a game of Truth or Dare. Because of this, a few interesting things were witnessed by some lucky several of the troops that afternoon, including Cassandra’s excellent impressions of Cullen, Dorian, and the Iron Bull. When it came time for Ellana to take her turn at the Dare, Sera requested that Maryden the Bard play a dirty Fereldan song with a driving beat. If one has the Inquisitor at their mercy, one may as well make it count.

Ellana hoisted herself onto the bar, much to Cabot the Bartender’s mirth (for once) and the reaction of the troops went from mildly amused laughter to whoops of excitement so loud that Cullen could hear it all the way across Skyhold in his office.

Of course, he decided to investigate.

One may perhaps be able to imagine Cullen’s shock and surprise when he opened the door to the Herald’s Rest and saw Ellana on top of the bar, strutting and swiveling her hips in time to the music. “Maker’s breath,” he mouthed, not even able to produce the sound. Crouching, sliding, and crawling along the smooth wooden surface, her eyes were full of joy unfettered, pure and bright as the dawn, while her body seemed held captive by some primal instinct. It was intoxicating for Cullen to witness.

And then he caught her eye. 

Ellana’s full lips curved into an inviting smile as Cullen locked eyes with her from across the room. The sound of the crowd died away in his mind. All he heard was the insistent pounding of his heart and all he saw was her beautiful body undulating to the beat. When she crooked her finger, beckoning him to come near, the crowd turned around, saw him, and cheered. And Cullen...smirked. With great satisfaction, blushing only a little. After all, she was _his_ , and everyone in the room _knew_ it. Also, it was too dark for anyone to notice the flush to his cheeks anyway. When the song ended, he approached the bar and Ellana slid into his embrace to raucous applause. He carried her over his shoulder back to her room so she could sleep off her remaining inebriation in his arms.

Another reason for the soldiers to envy and admire their Commander just that much more.

~~~

The next morning, a hungover Ellana brought two mugs of tea with her into the War Room. Cassandra had requested a meeting with her, and was bent over the table, deep in thought. She sighed, “I can keep staring at this, but I won’t get any closer.”

Ellana smirked and slid one of the mugs towards the Seeker. “Keep banging your head against the problem. It will go away eventually.”

Cassandra laughed weakly, softly, as if it hurt her head to do so. “I’m predictable, I know.” She glanced down at the table again. “I suppose I’ll never find them on my own.” She took the teacup and sipped thoughtfully. “We’ve seen so many Red Templars since Haven that I’m beginning to think that that’s what _left_ of the Order. I don’t think we have more than a hundred spread throughout the Inquisition.”

“What we _do_ have is the best of them,” intimated Ellana. “At least there is that. Something to build upon, perhaps.”

“All the same,” said Cassandra, “it puzzles me that we haven’t seen or heard from Lord Seeker Lucius since we saw him in Val Royeaux. It’s been...more than six months. Indeed, I’ve seen no hint of any Seekers amongst the Red Templars. Or _anywhere_.” She looked down at her cup. “I have a growing suspicion that Corypheus has imprisoned them.”

Ellana tilted her head to avoid the glint from a stained glass window. “Why keep them in prison if he has them? Why would he not simply kill them?” 

Cassandra shook her head. Which was a mistake. “ _Ohhh_.” She put her mug down on the table and rubbed her temples. “It’s...not that easy,” she countered. “Yes, they may be dead, but the Seekers began this war against the mages. They cannot have simply vanished.”

Ellana had been in the Inquisition for more than six months. All this time, she was never truly sure how the war had started. Some believed it was the actions of Lord Seeker Lambert that brought it into being, some said it was Anders blowing up the Chantry, and yet others said the war’s origin was political in nature, and truly happened when Grand Enchanter Fiona led her fellow mages to break away from the Circles. Just thinking about it made her head hurt. More than it already was, that is. 

Cassandra was looking down at the map again. “There must be a trail we can follow, yet so far I have only discovered hints.”

Ellana sipped her tea and nodded. “Finding them obviously means a lot to you. Have you given any of your leads to the others?”

Cassandra picked up her tea again and swirled the mug, watching the bubbles spin within. “I—I wouldn’t presume—”

“ _Presume_?” Ellana barked out a laugh that was louder than she intended. “Ugh. Presume nothing. You _started_ this thing. You’re Inner Circle. _Family_. You have only to ask.”

Cassandra snorted, “Thank you, _Commander_.”

“Oh, shut up,” groaned Ellana. “This is _ridiculous_.” Suddenly realizing her error, she covered her mouth in horror.

“You know,” Cassandra’s smile grew sinister. “I think I heard him say ‘Creators’ when he accidentally dropped something on his foot the other day—”

“He did _not_!” Ellana cried, blushing furiously.

“Pretty soon you’re going to start dressing alike,” Cassandra continued, poking Ellana in the ribs. “Better start hunting Great Bear now! Maybe you can have your _own_ fluffy cloak by the time winter rolls around again.”

Ellana snorted, “Nice work, deflecting with humor. You’re starting to remind me of Varric.”

Cassandra blushed crimson and quickly sipped her tea to compose herself. “Anyway, like I was saying, or rather, what I was going to say, was that I left the Order, but I could never abandon them.” She shook her head. “I doubt it would even be beneficial. They would not look kindly on the Inquisition. But even so, if there’s a chance—”

Ellana smiled, “I’ll pass it along to Leliana at the next War Room meeting.” She put her arm around the small of the Seeker’s back. “Let’s go get some breakfast.”

~~~

The Nightingale traced the disappearances of the Seekers, Bann Loren (a minor nobleman), and a small handful of Inquisition agents all to Caer Oswin in Ferelden. Before long, Ellana, Cassandra, Dorian, and Varric were ready to leave. Cullen was there with them at the crack of dawn to see them off.

“I don’t like it, mon chaton,” he whispered as he caressed her cheek. “All those disappearances...you could be next. Anything powerful enough to make the Seekers vanish…” 

Ellana looked up at him with love shining out from her eyes, but with her jaw set stubbornly. “Cullen, I _promised_ Cassandra.”

Cullen sighed and pressed his forehead to hers. “If you don’t send a raven in three days, I’m coming after you.”

Then he kissed her and sent her on her way.

~~~

Cullen thought it might be easier to deal with his worry if he kept a journal while Ellana was away.

**The first day:**

 

**8:00am**  
 _Woke alone in Ellana’s room. Was holding her pillow tightly to me, and spent almost a quarter of an hour simply inhaling what was left of her scent on it._

**9:00am**  
 _Breakfast with Bull and Cole. Mostly with Bull, since Cole doesn’t really eat. Bull won’t admit it, but he misses Dorian. Looking at him is somewhat akin to looking in the mirror. Cole offers reassurances, talking about the pull in Ellana’s belly when she looks at me. I smile and thank him and ache._

**10:00am**  
 _Meeting in the War Room. Leliana and Josephine acting unusually nicely towards me. Is my worry so obvious_?

**11:00am**  
 _Overseeing training exercises. A welcome respite. Didn’t think about Ellana for two whole hours. Much._

**1:00pm**  
 _Lunch and chess with Leliana. Usually more engrossing than it is today. I keep remembering Ellana’s nightmares of her time spent in the future. More than once, Leliana actually beat me._

_I don’t even think she cheated._

**3:00pm**  
 _Meeting with Inquisition Templars._

**4:00pm**  
 _Joint training with Chevaliers._

**6:00pm**  
 _Dinner. No raven. No appetite._

**7:00pm**  
 _Paperwork for hours. Hawke and Anders visit and request permanent asylum with the Inquisition. I tell them it’s not my decision. Anders looks like a great weight has been lifted off of his shoulders and like he’s about ten years younger. He plays with the kittens while Hawke helps sort documents into order of priority._

**11:00pm**  
 _Standing on the balcony of Ellana’s room, looking up at the stars._

_I should go to sleep._

_She would be calling out to me from under the covers if she were here. “Venir à mon lit, mon chevalier!” She knows all the useful phrases._

_“Oui, mon chaton. J’arrive.”_

~~~

**The second day:**

**6:00am**  
 _Wake up with a shattering headache. Can only lie in bed and whimper in pain for the next few hours. Suffering only interrupted because I miss breakfast and Bull sends the Chargers out to look for me._

**10:00am**  
 _Leliana somehow convinces Vivienne to treat my headache with an icy scalp massage. Madame de Fer regards Ellana’s quarters favorably and approves of the Orlesian style bed in particular._

_Icy scalp massage not as pleasant as Ellana’s electric massage, but then maybe it’s just the company._

**12:00pm**  
 _Oversee joint exercises for mages and templars with Blackwall, Bull, Solas, and Vivienne. Vivienne barely masks her contempt for the entire situation and recommends Commander Helaine to take her place. There is hearty agreement from all present._

**4:00pm**  
 _War Room meeting. Thanks to Harding’s access to the Taslin Strider, my assignment to send troops to occupy the Ylenn Basin has finished early. Ellana, of course, is not here to thank me in her usual vivacious way, nor is she here to give me something new to occupy my people with. She will likely think the angry Comte de Poisson’s suggestion that we throw walnuts at rifts to be hilarious. Find myself wondering how Shapeley is doing with Duchess Florianne’s skull. He can interrupt Orlesian nobles kissing to his heart’s delight, so I’m guessing that he’s quite pleased with himself._

**5:00pm**  
 _Sera brought me a cake. Said I looked hungry._

_I am dubious._

**6:00pm**  
 _No raven_. 

_Can’t remember if I ate today._

_I might be a little worried about Ellana._

**7:00pm**  
 _Hawke and Fenris visit me in my office. Hawke tells me I look pale and recommends that I spend some time in the garden relaxing tomorrow._

_Fenris does not like cats. He mentions a desire to help train the Mabari since they were originally a Tevinter breed. Also remarks that for whatever reason, the pups do not like Solas. At all._

_While sorting the mail, Hawke notices a letter from Alistair and hands it to me with a surprised expression._

**9:00pm**  
 _Read Alistair’s letter. He requests a peace summit with Orlais to be hosted by the Inquisition at Skyhold with Josephine handling the negotiations, amongst other things. Will have to wait for Ellana’s official stamp of approval, but send a short message back by raven assuring him that first, the summit will happen in all likelihood, and secondly, that no, Ellana and I are not engaged yet, despite rampant rumors. Maker’s breath, stop asking_!

**11:00pm**  
 _I decide to spend the night in my own quarters. I can no longer smell her in her sheets and if I have to choose between nightmares in my bed or spending the entire night aching for her in hers, I’ll take the nightmares._

~~~

**The third day:**

**7:00am**  
 _Ended up spending the entire night lying awake aching and worried for Ellana anyway. Really not looking forward to the rest of the day._

**8:00am**  
 _Spent about an hour staring at Sera’s cake, wondering if whatever prank she might be pulling on me is worth taking the chance to devour it._

_It’s chocolate, too. She plays dirty._

**9:00am**  
 _Hawke and Bull drag me out to the garden, practically by force. Bull finds out I haven’t eaten since lunch two days ago and fusses over me like he’s my mother._

_But peaches, though._

**11:00am**  
 _Make arrangements for a little trip to Honnleath for Ellana and I when she comes back._

_If she comes back._

_Of course she’ll come back. Don’t be ridiculous._

_Am I...arguing...with myself? Ugh._

**12:00pm**  
 _Commission a portrait to be painted of Ellana. Maybe being able to see her face while she’s away will ease things for me later._

**1:00pm**  
 _Pass out at my desk, apparently. I don’t wake up until_ —

**4:00pm**  
 _Harding awakens me for Sing-quisition practice._

**6:00pm**  
 _I stand by Leliana’s shrine to Andraste in the rookery and wait._

_And wait._

_And wait._

**7:00pm**  
 _A raven arrives._

_It’s from Ellana. I open her message with trembling hands._

**_She is all right._ **

_Lord Seeker Lucius betrayed the Seekers._

**_She is all right._ **

_Most of the Seekers are dead thanks to the Lord Seeker’s collusion with an Envy demon, Corypheus and the Order of Fiery Promise._

**_She is all right. ___**

_She will be home, in my arms, by tomorrow._

**_Everything is going to be alright._ **


	13. The Getaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen takes Ellana to his secret hiding place.

“Very good,” Cullen murmured. “Now close your eyes, and see if you can recall it from memory without peeking.”

Ellana’s eyes fluttered shut as she lay back along Cullen’s desk.

“Let the blade pass through the flesh,” she whispered. “Let my blood touch the ground, let my cries touch their hearts—”

Cullen drew a ragged breath that seemed to break her concentration. He couldn’t help himself. Ellana had come to him, in all seriousness, for instruction in the Chant of Light. Though she had no intention of converting, she believed it advantageous for the Herald of Andraste to at least have a passing familiarity with Chantry scripture. It was one more reason why he loved her so much. Her total commitment to the cause, despite the fact that she’d never asked for the burden she’d been given.  
  
Maybe it was the way her Dalish lilt caressed the words or the breathiness of her delivery, but he had never noticed how...charged the Chant could be when taken in a certain context. All Cullen could think about was his cock breaking through her innocence and her crying out in pleasure. He got up and looked out the window, hoping that fresh air and not looking at her would help to calm himself down. “Let mine be the last sacrifice,” he finished for her.

When he looked over his shoulder he could have sworn he saw her grinning mischievously. “Ah, yes,” she replied. “I beg your pardon, Commander.” She opened her eyes and looked at him. “May I have another?”

Did he dare? No one knew of his fondness, nay, his passion for the Dissonant Verses. Perhaps, though. Perhaps it was a passion they could share…

“Maybe later,” he said with a smirk. “You need to show me you've actually memorized Andraste 1 first.”

Ellana pouted. “Spoilsport.”

After she hopped off his desk and began to amble towards the door, he caught her up in his arms from behind and kissed her. “Will you come for another lesson tomorrow?”

She smirked. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m just _dying_ to get back to the Emprise du Lion. All that red lyrium. Yay.”

Cullen’s throat tightened. “You’re not done there yet?”

“I haven’t been back there since your men repaired Judicael’s Crossing. I still have to take Suledin Keep from the Red Templars. And I hear there’s a Desire demon in charge of that—”

Cullen’s eyes widened with panic as the color drained from his face. “No.” He gripped her tightly.

“Cullen, I just dealt with an Envy demon last week,” Ellana said casually. “I’m sure I can handle—oh.”

He ran a gauntleted hand through his hair. “It is said that Pride demons are the most dangerous of their kind. But in _my_ experience...a Pride demon is dumb muscle compared to a Desire demon. The only thing possibly more powerful than desire... is fear. I wish there was a way we could just...destroy the Keep from above. So you wouldn’t have to go inside. Perhaps some trebuchets...”

“Maybe I can train a dragon to rain fire down on the place,” she replied, squeezing his upper arms in an effort to try to relax him a little. “I hear the Emprise has two of them.”

“Not helping.” Cullen frowned as he realized his gauntlet was stuck in his hair. “Maker’s breath. Ow!”

Ellana fought the urge to snicker. He was, after all, genuinely worried about her. Every time she had to deal with Red Templars, it was...triggering for him. She looked him over and took the hand that wasn’t stuck, leading him across the battlements towards the Herald’s Rest.

~~~

“Bend over,” she said, opening the door to the kitchen.

“What are you going to do?” he asked, nervous.

“Don’t you trust me?” she countered.

“Why are you answering my question with a question?”

Ellana sighed. “I’m going to get your hair wet. The surface will be so slick that the gauntlet should slide right out.”

“Inquisitor, no.”

“Ugh. I _hate_ it when you call me that.”

Cullen chuckled and whispered huskily, “I’m going to call you Inquisitor in bed. And you’re going to _like_ it.”

Ellana flushed before narrowing her eyes, picking up an empty mug, filling it with water, and dumping it on Cullen’s head.

“Aaargh!” Cullen grunted as Ellana began to gently extricate the gauntlet from the mass of wet curls that had exploded into being on his head.. “Do you know how long it takes me to get my hair the way I want it? An _hour_.”

Ellana managed to pull the gauntlet free painlessly. “You’re _welcome_ , Commander,” she said with a smirk. “I never would have taken you for a vain man.”

“It’s not that, it’s—well, from what I understand, my girlfriend is _very_ fond of my hair.” He smiled and leaned in to kiss Ellana’s neck.

She giggled and squirmed even as she held him tightly to her. “Cullen, you’re dripping all over me!”

“Serves you right,” he whispered against her throat.

“You’re going to have to change your clothes,” she moaned as Cullen nibbled her ear lobe.

“Mmm hmm,” he mumbled.

“I want to watch,” she growled.

Cullen laughed. “As you wish.”

~~~

Ellana lay back on Cullen’s bed, arms folded languorously behind her head and blushing as she watched Cullen remove his cloak, followed by his armor, and finally his undershirt. He smirked at her, reveling in her appreciative gaze.

“You should do something about the roof,” Ellana remarked offhandedly, her voice coming out huskier than she’d expected. She cleared her throat and a flush of electricity shot through her entire body as Cullen started walking towards her with just the slightest strut in his step.

He couldn't help but laugh at the tables being turned, that she was the one stumbling over her words for once. He continued his approach slowly, stalking his prey, toying with her like a cat.

“Or have something done. I—I wasn't trying to imply…”

 _So this is what it feels like to be her_ , Cullen thought as he leaned over Ellana, raking his eyes over her visibly excited body. He was going to savor this for as long as possible.

“...that you...do it yourself. I mean,” she swallowed hard as Cullen crawled on top of her and smiled mischievously. “I—I mean, you _are_ the Commander.”

Cullen chuckled. “Am I _your_ Commander?” He asked, as he buried his face in her neck and slid his hand under Ellana’s shirt.

“Mmm...yes,” Ellana moaned as he pulled her breast band down and dragged his calloused thumb across a pert nipple.

“Say it,” he growled, rolling the hardening flesh between his thumb and fingertip.

“My Commander,” Ellana cried, just before she dipped her head and licked the length of a thin white scar on his chest.

Cullen had just reached for his belt buckle when there was a knock on the door downstairs. He started to get up, but Ellana grabbed him by the waistband of his trousers. “Where do you think _you’re_ going?” she asked.

He smirked, “ _Who’s_ the Commander here, again?”

She reluctantly let go. Cullen walked over to the window and shouted. “Can it wait?”

It was Harding. “My apologies, Commander,” she called up to him. “It’s about the...southern expedition.”

 _The trip to Honnleath_. Cullen’s eyes widened. “I’ll be right down.” He slid down the ladder before Ellana could object and hurried to the door.

Lace Harding was rewarded for her vigilance with an eyeful of the Commander, bare-chested and flushed. She grinned as a blush spread across her face. “Sorry for interrupting, Ser. But…” she lowered her voice, “Dagna isn’t finished with the alterations yet. She’s waiting for a special shipment out of Orzammar and doesn’t expect it to be finished for at least a month.”

“A _month_?” Cullen was aghast. “But she’s leaving for Emprise du Lion next week! What—what if something happens to—” Cullen shook his head. “I—I’m sorry, Lieutenant. I shouldn't trouble you with personal matters.”

“It will be alright, Ser. Dagna knows how important this is. You only have one chance to get it right, after all.” Lace winked at him and whispered, “I’m sure it will be perfect.”

Cullen rolled his eyes. This was the second time his proposal would be foiled by that damned ring. He was beginning to think it was bad luck.

Wait. He patted the pocket of his trousers.

Luck.

“That’s it!” he exclaimed happily, almost sending Lace rolling backwards with the force of his voice alone.

Just then, Ellana brushed past him and out the door. “So sorry, Commander. I have a dinner engagement with Dorian that I’m running late for.” She nodded at Scout Harding. “Lace.”

Harding bobbed her head in greeting. “Inquisitor.”

~~~

She wasn't cross, she told herself. Not really. She just wanted him to _think_ she was cross.

They had been so close. So very close. And then, as usual, business got in the way.

 _The purpose of the Inquisition is business, though_ , she thought, chastising herself, _not for providing sexytime with the Commander of the Inquisition Forces_  
.  
Frustrated was likely a better word. Frustrated with a leaning towards something...anything to get Cullen off balance again. She was unused to being so completely at his mercy, like wandering in the dark with nothing but his hand to guide her.

~~~

_She is late._

_Everything is ready but her._

_Where is she_?

Cullen paced the floor of his office waiting for Ellana to arrive for her Chant lesson.

Finally, about a half an hour late, she strode in. He was actually surprised to see her at that point. “ _There_ you are.”

Ellana raised an eyebrow at him. “Were you waiting for me?”

“Yes. I mean, no.”

She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, then turned as if to leave. “Oh, well I can come back later, if you prefer.”

Cullen was surprisingly fast for someone wearing as much armor as he did. He interposed himself between her and the door. “No! Please, stay.”

Ellana bit her lip to keep from smiling. She tilted her head. “Alright, Commander.”

Cullen took a deep breath and retreated behind his desk again. “We have some dealings in Ferelden” He looked away, as if he was nervous. “I was hoping you might accompany me.” He started fiddling with scrap paper on his desk. “When...you can spare the time, of course.”

Cullen never asked her to travel with him unless it was Important. Ellana was a bit shocked. Strange that she hadn't heard anything. “Is something wrong?”

“ _What_?” he asked, his eyes wide with surprise. “No! I would rather explain there. If you wish to go.”

She could fight it no longer. A slow smile spread across Ellana’s face. “I _think_ I can carve some time out of my busy schedule for you, my Commander.”

Cullen grinned. “I will make the necessary arrangements.” _Ha. Make. The plans have been in place for three weeks…_

~~~

They set out on horseback, just the two of them. He on the Imperial Warmblood and she on the Orlesian Courser.

 _Five whole days with her. All to myself._ Cullen had to pinch himself occasionally to make sure he wasn't dreaming. According to his estimations, they would arrive in Honnleath by the following day’s evening.

 _Perfect_.

Cullen had selected a route that allowed the horses to have enough access to water, where no rifts had been spotted, and that possessed a lovely meadow where they could spend the night under a canopy of starlight. He wanted to tell her all about it, wanted to brag a little, but...he hadn't done all this so she could marvel at what an amazing strategist he was. He’d gone through all this trouble so she might have at least the vaguest inkling of how much he loved her.

Luckily, she knew him all too well.

As they began to set up camp for the evening, she casually asked, “This trip...it wasn't an impromptu thing, was it?”

“Of course not,” he answered calmly, trying not to crack a smile as he attached his bedroll to hers. “Like I told you, we have business.”

“Oh, right.” She crouched, and started up a campfire with a small charge of electricity. “I just...thought it odd that we were traveling without a retinue.” She sat down beside him and rested her head against his shoulder. “You’re always so concerned about my safety. It’s not like you to not want an armed escort, even if _you’re_ with me.” She slipped her little hand in his. “Also, there has been a startling lack of preparation for me. No memos? No special instructions? I dare say, Commander, that this is beginning to resemble a _holiday_.” She squeezed his hand.

“Clever girl,” he whispered as he let go her hand, then reached up behind her and stroked her hair gently.

Ellana laughed softly. “Was there _ever_ any business to be had in Ferelden?”

“The only business we have for the remainder of our trip is _no_ business,” Cullen replied with a smile.

“You have me _all_ to yourself,” she teased.

Cullen gently lifted her into his lap and kissed her temple. “The thought _may_ have crossed my mind.”

She rested her head against his chest, quite sure that they were both too tired from riding all day to do more than cuddle and sleep. “Well played, mon chevalier. Well played.”

~~~

It was early evening the next day when Cullen and Ellana finally arrived at the intended destination. Honnleath was in the far south of Ferelden, nestled right on the coast. It being the peak of summer, the village was quite sultry by day. The cool of the evening was a welcome respite from the heat and humidity. Ellana stared longingly at the gentle, peacock-blue water that rippled against the dock Cullen led her to before she followed him to the edge of it.

“So this is Honnleath?” she asked.

“Near to it.” Cullen reached out and took her hand. “You walk into danger every day. I wanted to take you away from that, if only for a little while. This place...this place was always quiet.”

“Did you come here often?” Ellana asked.

“I loved my siblings,” Cullen answered, “but they were very loud. I would come here to clear my head.”

Ellana tried to picture Cullen as a quiet boy surrounded by rambunctious siblings and her heart melted a little.

“Of course, they always found me eventually,” he concluded with a laugh.

Ellana grinned. “Creators, it’s the theme of your life. You get overwhelmed, you leave, your siblings track you down. Repeat as necessary.”

He chuckled. “You _may_ be right.”

She watched him intently, how the salt sea air seemed to uncoil him. She could feel the pulse in his wrist and how it fell into rhythm with the serene lapping of the waves. “You were happy here,” she observed.

“I was,” he said, caressing her hand with his thumb. “I still am.” He was quiet for a moment, then he continued. “The last time I was here was the day I left for Templar training. My brother gave me this.” In his other hand, he held out a silver coin with the image of Andraste stamped on it. “It just happened to be in his pocket, but he said it was for luck. Templars are not supposed to carry such things. Our faith should see us through.”

“You broke the Order’s rules!” Ellana teased. “I’m shocked.”

“Until a year ago, I was _very_ good at following them. _Most_ of the time,” he replied. He looked down at it as it glinted faintly in the moonlight. “This was the only thing I took from Ferelden that the Templars didn't give me.” He looked into her eyes, turned her palm over and pressed the coin gently into her hand. “Humor me. You don’t know what you’ll face before the end. This can’t hurt,” he whispered tenderly.

Ellana’s eyes widened. Cullen wasn't just giving her a good luck charm. He was giving himself, all that he had ever been, to her. She wished she could wear it, so he could always see it and how it linked the two of them together, but she settled for slipping it into her pocket for the moment. “I’ll keep it safe,” she promised, and squeezed his hand.

“Good,” he said, as he pulled her to him. “I know it’s foolish, but...I’m glad.” He kissed her, softly, sweetly. There was an innocence and vulnerability to it that caught Ellana off guard, as if he was revealing some tender part of himself to her that he never had before. She smiled against his lips and whispered, “Thank you,” before she stepped out of his embrace and began to toe off her boots.

He chuckled. “What are you doing?”

“What am I doing? Going for a swim,” she answered as she began to unfasten her riding habit. “It’s been just sweltering all day. I need to cool off.” She stood on tiptoe and playfully kissed Cullen at the corner of his mouth. “You should too.”  
Soon her habit was pooling around her ankles and she was standing in front of him with nothing on her but a fine set of Orlesian smallclothes and an impish smirk. “Come on, Commander. You don’t want the Herald of Andraste to slip into the water _all alone_ , do you?” She lowered her voice. “Or are you worried you’ll get your... _hair_...wet?”

Cullen was too busy wrapping his mind around the innuendo and her licking her lips to make much of a reply.

She shrugged. “Suit yourself,” she said. Ellana stepped backwards off of the pier, dropped into the water, and promptly disappeared.

Cullen’s eyes widened in shock. “Ellana?” He shrugged off his cloak and started tearing off his armor, calling her name with an increasing franticness. By the time he had stripped down to his smallclothes, he was quite sure he’d never undressed so quickly in his life. He dove into the water and hoped she had not been taken by the undertow.

He had just become completely submerged when he felt a pair of slender, delicate legs wrap around his waist, followed by slim arms encircling his neck. Cullen shot to the surface, taking Ellana with him. “You!” he shouted. “You little demon!” He covered her face, her neck, her chest with relieved kisses. “Where did you go?”

“Under the pier,” she said with a giggle.

“Maker’s breath!” Cullen exclaimed. Then he got a wicked look in his eye. He immediately reached behind her and unhooked her breast band with one hand. At her surprised look, he grinned bashfully and whispered, “I’ve been...practicing.” Then he kissed her, rolled his eyes and added, “Don’t ask. It’s complicated and…” he lifted her out of the water slightly, to give himself easier access to her breasts. “Ohhhh, Andraste preserve me,” he purred, holding Ellana to him with one arm while kneading one of her breasts with his other hand, tentatively at first. “I've wanted this for _so_ long,” he moaned before he took her nipple into his mouth and sucked. “So. Long.”

All the pleasurable sensations sent shockwaves through Ellana’s entire body. “Cullen!” she begged. “Please!” She was in no position to reach his smallclothes with her hands with the way he was holding her; arms bound tightly to her sides. He was in complete control. _Almost_. She unwrapped her legs, then positioned her feet on either side of his hips and pushed down.

Cullen growled ferociously and pulled her smallclothes so hard that he ended up tearing them off of her altogether. He let Ellana slide slightly further down his body, holding her so that her breasts were pressed against his chest, then rolled his hips against her so that the head of his cock bobbed against her cunt. “Is this…” he bounced her, the head of his sex just barely slipping inside, “what you _want_ , Inquisitor?”

“Yes! Make me yours, _please_!” she cried out, straining to lower herself further to no avail.

“Yes _what_?” Cullen snapped.

“What?” she asked. She opened her eyes to see Cullen staring at her with ravenous intent, like if they weren't in the water, he would be literally aflame with want.

He reached down and grasped his cock, sliding it back to front, front to back against her slit, causing Ellana to shudder uncontrollably. “What. Do you _say_?” he asked again.

She bit her lip so hard that she tasted copper in her mouth. “Yes, Commander!” she screamed. “Please!”

Cullen hesitated, and he looked at her with adoration before he kissed her. “I love you,” he said in a trembling voice.

He began to ease her down, and was about to take her, when he heard a loud rumbling overhead. Cullen groaned. “Maker’s Balls, you have _got_ to be—Ellana, that isn't one of _yours_ is it?”

She shook her head.

He rolled his eyes with a sigh, took her hand and started to lead her out of the water. “Never in my _wildest_ dreams did I ever think I would be asking anyone that question, here, under these circumstances. Life is...strange, isn't it?”

She stopped. “Wait, we’re going to stop because of a gentle summer shower?”

The rain came down hard in sheets, pelting their skin. Cullen burst out laughing and hoisted himself up and onto the pier. “You've obviously never been this far south before. Honnleath does not have gentle summer showers. We’d better get to the inn before they start barricading the doors.”

“There’s an inn?” Ellana asked as she raised her hands above her head so Cullen could pull her back up to the pier.

“I may have gotten us a reservation,” he answered sheepishly. Cullen gingerly began to put his clothes back on. “What is it?”

Ellana was staring warily at her collapsed riding habit and boots. “I am not looking forward to putting my clothes back on. At all.”

Cullen drew his hand down his face. “I may have a solution to your problem.”

~~~

While Cullen saw to it that the horses were properly stabled, Ellana tiptoed inside, Cullen’s cloak wrapped tightly around her. She approached the woman who sat at the guest reception desk. “Um, hello. Reservation for Rutherford, please.”

The woman narrowed her eyes at Ellana. “You don’t _look_ like a Rutherford.”

Ellana swallowed. “He—he was the one who booked the room, but he’s...seeing to the horses,” she explained. “He should be here any—”

“I wasn’t aware the Dalish had prostitutes,” snapped the woman.

Her stomach dropped. “I beg your pardon?”

“You need me to repeat myself?” asked the woman. “With _those_ ears?” She stood up and sneered. “Get out before I have you thrown out, Dalish whore.”

Just then, Cullen walked through the door. “Inquisitor! Do you have the key yet?” he asked as he wiped his boots on the welcome mat.

“I—Inquisitor?” the woman stammered. Her eyes went wide. “Cullen Rutherford!” she exclaimed. “I haven’t seen you since you left for Templar training. You were this high!” She held her hand to the middle of her chest. “You’re with the Inquisition now?”

Cullen nodded at the woman and smirked at Ellana. “I was a late bloomer.” He interposed himself between the two women. “Mrs. Armstrong, this is Inquisitor Lavellan.”

The woman’s cheeks flushed. “My son was held hostage by the Avvar in the Fallow Mire. He said the Inquisitor saved him.”

Cullen held out his hand. “I take it that he never mentioned that the Inquisitor was a Dalish elf?” He cleared his throat. “The key please? That is, unless you’re planning on turning away both the Herald of Andraste and the Commander of the Inquisition forces…”

Ellana had never heard Cullen name-drop before. It was an odd tactic coming from him and she had no idea why he had done it until she felt his arm go around her, sensed his clenched fist in the small of her back, shaking.

He’d heard her.

Mrs. Armstrong dropped the key into Cullen’s hand. He smiled graciously and gave a polite bow. “Is the kitchen closed? We would like supper sent up. If it’s not too much trouble, that is.”

“No! No trouble, at all, Commander Rutherford.” She curtsied. “Do you need someone to carry your bags?”

“Maker bless your little heart, Mrs. Armstrong! That would be lovely, thank you.” Cullen smiled and offered Ellana his arm.

Ellana slipped her arm through Cullen’s and together they headed up the stairs to their room.

~~~

Cullen closed the door after them and leaned against it with a sigh. “I feel like I need to wash my mouth out with soap.”

“Why?” asked Ellana. “ _You_ didn't do anything wrong.”

“She called you a whore,” he grumbled. “And I was _nice_ to her.”

Ellana shrugged. “You said it yourself. A storm was coming. We needed a place to stay—”

“ _Don’t_ , Ellana.” Cullen crossed the room and lifted her chin. “Let me be sorry.”

She closed her eyes. “No one’s called me that since I became the Herald,” she whispered. “Well, nobody who didn't want to kill me at the time.”

Cullen wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head..

“I’d...forgotten what it felt like,” Ellana said as she rested her head against his chest.


	14. Guilty Pleasures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everybody has them.

Were one to ask Ellana how her excursion with Cullen went, she would say things had gone well. 

Well enough, considering the circumstances. 

The weather never improved. They spent almost the entire time in their room, first waiting for their clothes to dry and then, frankly, avoiding everyone else. The mood from the lake never quite returned to them, and Ellana felt self-conscious, blaming herself for what happened afterwards, despite Cullen’s reassurances to the contrary.

As for Cullen? He was beside himself. Upset at how Ellana’s reception in his hometown reflected on him, frustrated for his hesitating with her sexually (as if the storm would not have dared to erupt once he’d finally penetrated her), and confused as to what he should do next. The only thing he could think of was to passive-aggressively order room service every hour. At random times. Just so they would get comfortable, thinking he’d given up, before they’d suddenly have to wait on him again. But that was mainly to his own satisfaction. It didn’t lighten Ellana’s mood as much as he’d hoped.

He wanted to make love to her. That was part of the purpose of the trip, so that they could relax, have some privacy and just let things happen. But after her run-in with Mrs. Armstrong, he didn’t want her to think he was doing it out of pity or spite, so it did not come to pass.

Doubt began to creep in. Ellana had started having nightmares again, this time about her Clan, and Cullen took this as a sign that she wanted to go back home to her people. It was perfectly normal, well within her rights to want to do so, he told himself. But the thought of her leaving him filled him with dread.

~~~

Not wanting to focus on the turmoil going on in her own life, upon their return to Skyhold, Ellana set out to make some benevolent mischief and found the perfect target in Cassandra. 

Ellana spotted her sitting down on a bench with her back to her and absolutely riveted by something she was reading. Slipping in and around the brush, Ellana crept closer, closer, closer until she could get a glimpse of what it might be. 

The Seeker was so distracted that she didn’t notice Ellana was there until she spoke. “Good book?” For a book is what it was, no matter what Cassandra might have wanted to claim to the contrary. And she did try. 

She valiantly made an attempt to hide the volume behind her back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Cassandra protested.

Ellana smirked. “Do you think that I suddenly went blind?”

“Oh, that? Just...reports. From Commander Cullen,” Cassandra fibbed.

Ellana raised an eyebrow at her. “If he’s writing you reports _that_ long, then he and I are going to have to have a a little talk.”

She sighed. “It’s a _book_.”

“I can see that,” Ellana replied.

“It’s…” a shy, but radiant smile spread across Cassandra’s face. “...one of Varric’s tales. _Swords & Shields_. The latest chapter.”

Ellana had only ever read Varric’s _Tales of the Champion_ and _Hard in Hightown_. Those she knew about because she’d corresponded with him for years after he’d delivered the _Litany of Adralla_ to her on Cullen’s behalf. But Varric had never told her about _Swords & Shields_. She wondered why that was. “The _latest_ chapter? You mean...you’ve read them _all_?”

Cassandra looked away. “Not—not since this all began. We’ve been busy.”

Cole and Dorian, who’d apparently been chatting nearby, approached. “She’s read this one three times,” said Cole.

“You!” Cassandra blushed furiously. “I told you to stop spying!”

“You read it out loud to me,” Cole replied. “I don’t like the Captain either.” 

“I never did that!” Cassandra protested.

“And that’s just her favorite,” added Dorian. 

“Nobody asked you, Tevinter!” Cassandra snapped.

Dorian laughed. “I couldn’t finish the last one you lent me.” He nudged Cole and gestured in the direction of the Herald’s Rest. “I actually feel dumber for having tried.” The two of them then retreated from the heat of the Seeker’s glare.

She sighed. “It’s literature! _Smutty_...literature.” Worry spread across her features. “Whatever you do,” she pleaded, “ _don’t_ tell Varric!”

Ellana reached forward and plucked the book from Cassandra’s grasp, “Smut? I want to see!”

“You?” cried Cassandra. “No!”

“Are you worried that it’s going to _sully_ me for Cullen?!” Ellana protested. “Because I assure you, the things that have come out of his mouth...I’m not sure it’s publishable outside of Orlais.”

Cassandra’s jaw dropped a little. “But you’re the Inquisitor!”

“I know,” Ellana recalled, her lips curling into a decadent smile. “He likes to remind me of that, too.”

The Seeker sighed and averted her eyes. “They’re... _terrible_. And... _magnificent_. And this one ends in a cliffhanger. I know Varric is working on the next. He _must_ be!” She looked at Ellana hopefully. “You! You could ask him to finish it, _command_ him to…” She frowned. “Pretend you don’t know this about me,” she said, and stalked off into the armory.

~~~

“I feel so left out,” Ellana sighed, as she shut the door to Cullen’s office.

“How’s that?” Cullen asked.

“Everyone’s reading Varric’s smut but me,” Ellana replied.

Cullen cleared his throat and averted his eyes. “I—I’m sure you’re not the only member of the Inner Circle who’s never read _Swords & Shields_—” he covered his mouth with his hands and blushed.

Ellana stared at him. “You too?” She threw up her hands in protest. “Creators! You really _have_ left the Templars, you naughty boy!” She winked at him and he blushed even harder in response. “How can you _still_ be blushing?”

“Because,” Cullen grinned shyly, “there’s a lot we haven’t done yet.” He reached out and tangled a tendril of her hair around his fingertip, his voice growing husky. “And I have a _vivid_ imagination.”

“Maybe I should have you read it to me sometime,” she said with a wink. “Like on your next break. Then I could see why Cassandra fusses so much over it.”

Cullen chuckled and gestured at the ladder that led to his loft. “By _all_ means.”

~~~

“Mmm,” hummed Ellana, as she curled into Cullen’s embrace.

“It’s actually pretty tame by most romance novel standards…” he began. “I may have... _embellished_ a little.”

Ellana lifted her head and kissed his throat, “I’m going to ignore the implication that you've read enough romance novels to be able to make that kind of judgement and simply revel in how... _sexy_ you made everything sound.”

Cullen smirked, rolled onto his side, and pressed a kiss to her ear. “I aim to please, my darling.”

_Creators, he could probably make me wet by reciting the Chant_ , she thought. Then she smiled wickedly up at him. “Commander?” she asked huskily. “Take me to the Chantry.”

Cullen closed his eyes and rolled over onto his back with a blissful smile. “What would the Herald of Andraste like to—”

“Benedictions 4.”

“Blessed…” Cullen began, but he faltered as Ellana crawled between his legs. “What are you doing?”

Ellana looked up at him, her eyes glittering with desire. “I want to kiss you, Cullen.” She bit her lip. She couldn't remember the proper word for it and hoped he'd understand. “Um. Down _here_. While you speak the Chant.” She flushed suddenly, her hands hovering over his belt buckle. “Is—is that _wrong_?” 

Feeling suddenly self-conscious, she started to move away, but Cullen caught her gently by the back of her head. “No! No, it’s—that’s—nobody’s ever wanted to _do_ that to me before,” he said, blushing furiously. 

Ellana smiled. “I figure it will make less noise than...well…”

Cullen smirked. “We don’t know that.” He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and released her. “Blessed are they…”

Ellana gently unbelted his trousers and hovered over his laces before dipping down and pulling them free with her teeth.

“Blessed are they who stand...before the corrupt…”

She hooked her fingers under his waistband. Cullen lifted his hips and gasped in surprise as she pulled both his trousers and smallclothes down in one fell swoop.

“Creators…” Ellana whispered, her eyes wide. She’d seen a lot in her short life; mostly death and destruction as of late, with some hope and beauty thrown in as mere spices. But this... _him_...so powerful and yet so vulnerable...she stroked the silken skin of his cock reverently and smiled when it jumped in response. “It’s...so _beautiful_ , Cullen.” She wasn’t sure how she was going to get all of that into her mouth, but she was determined to have fun trying. “You are... _perfect_.” Ellana reached up and squeezed his hand. “Please continue.” 

Cullen bit his lip and took a deep breath. “B—blessed are they…”

Ellana slowly, slowly licked his cock from root to tip.

“Wh—wh—who...oh Maker, ohhhh Ellana, PLEASE!” He tangled his fingers in her hair and gently nudged her in a desperate, fumbling attempt to get her to take more of him into her mouth. “I want—I want to be inside you…”

Ellana giggled. “I don’t think that’s in Benedictions,” she teased before licking the precome from his slit and blowing softly. Cullen moaned and gripped the sheets in response. 

Leliana’s advice was working like a charm. She’d have to remember to get her a fruit basket.

“Blessed are they who sssssssstand—”

Ellana started to drag her fingernails down his thighs, then swirled her tongue around the head of his cock.

“Stand before th—th—the c—corrupt and the WICKED!”

She had taken him, well, as much as him as she could, completely into her mouth and started to suck enthusiastically.

“And do not ffffffffalllllllllllllter.” Cullen regained some semblance of control and smiled proudly when he was finally able to finish a sentence. The fact that it was moaned instead of spoken apparently made no difference to him.

Then she started to use her hands. She needed both of them, but this allowed her to be creative, dragging them in opposite directions or pumping up and down, alternating as she went.

"Mmm!" Cullen cried out and tapped one of his hands on the bed beside his hip. Ellana reached up with one hand and interlaced her fingers with his. Sparks flowed up her arm and down his entire body. He squeezed her hand, hooked one of his legs around her, and continued, "B—bless—blessed aaaaaaaaaare the pea—the pea—the peacekeepers theCHAMpionsofthe—Ellana! I—I'm coming! I'm—" he cried out, arched his back and released himself between her lips.

And then he laid there, eyes wide, panting for a good minute or so before he finally caught his breath enough to be silently still, staring at the ceiling, his only movements the gentle rise and fall of his stomach, the placid twisting of his fingers in Ellana’s hair. He was so quiet after all the noise of before that it worried her. _Did I break him_?

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Are you...Did I…” she began, her voice trembling.

“Don’t even _think_ about asking if you did it wrong,” Cullen replied softly. “I was just...remembering.” He unhooked his leg from around her, reached down, and swiftly hauled her to him so that she rested her head over his heart.

“Remembering what?” she asked.

“The first time I saw you,” he whispered. “I thought that if there was such a thing as a Spirit of Delight that existed in the Fade, it was you. Made flesh. You made me forget how angry I was, if only for a few stolen moments. Made me...trust myself.” He looked down at her awestruck expression and smirked. “Yes, much better than ‘I thought you were pretty.’” His expression softened. “I never dreamed... _anyone_ would love me this much.”

Ellana smiled.

“Or...that I could love anyone as much as I love you.” He shifted so that she was lying on her back, and he moved down between her legs. When Ellana realized what he was intending to do, she gasped, and he looked up at her with a raw blush on his cheeks. “You asked me to take you to the Chantry, my darling. And now it’s _my_ turn to make you sing.”

His fingers glided up her bare legs as he pushed her skirt up higher and higher. “Nothing,” he whispered against her thighs, “could be holier than this.”

~~~

“Cassandra’s waiting for the newest installment of _Swords & Shields_,” Ellana said very quickly to Varric.

He looked up at her curiously. “Are you all right? You look flushed.”

“Wh—what are you talking about?,” she asked in a sing-song voice. “I’m fine! _Book_.”

Varric raised an eyebrow at Ellana. “Are those...hives? Andraste’s flaming knickers, are you contagious?”

Ellana groaned. “I—it’s not what you think, Varric.” She reached out and patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. “I promise that this is not contagious.”

“Right,” Varric replied warily. “You see, you must understand why I would think you’re not well. One, the raised welts on your neck. Two, the flushed skin. Oh. _Ohhhh_!” he lowered his voice and smirked knowingly. “Good going, Curly. Anyway, you said that Cassandra reads my books. That sort of tale can only be the product of a delusional mind. Either way, you should probably lie down before you hurt yourself.”

“Cassandra loves your work, Varric,” Ellana replied. “She was gushing like a schoolgirl!”

“Wait. Did you say the romance serial?” Varric asked. “Oh, she’ll be waiting for a while, then. I haven’t finished it and wasn’t planning to. That book is easily the _worst_ I’ve ever written. The last issue barely sold enough to pay for the ink.”

“Well, Cassandra seems to be hooked on it,” Ellana said. And Cullen. And Cole. And those were just the people she’d talked to. But she didn’t want to go too far into detail. She wanted to know if Varric would do it _just_ for Cassandra.

He smiled. “And I honestly thought a hole in the sky was the weirdest thing that could happen.” He raised his eyebrow at Ellana. “So, you want me to finish writing the latest issue of my worst serial. For Cassandra. Oh, that’s such a _terrible_ idea, I have to do it! On one condition: I get to be there when you give her the book.”

Ellana’s lips curled into a wicked smile. “Deal.”

Varric smiled back. “I’ll get to work then.” He paused, a look of wonder on his face. “You know, the fact that the book is terrible just makes it more worthwhile somehow.”

It was the happiest she’d seen him in weeks, perhaps months. 

Maybe since Kirkwall.

~~~

Cullen tugged her smallclothes down with his teeth. 

“N—now you’re just copying me,” Ellana whispered huskily. It wasn’t exactly true. She’d undone his laces with her teeth but had lost patience with all that by the time came to actually...debrief her Commander.

He released them around her ankles, tossed them aside, and chuckled. “I could tear them off of you again. But, if I keep that up, we may have to start a whole separate Inquisition budget for your smallclothes.”

“No _thank_ you” Ellana replied, staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t want to have to explain it to ViviENNE!”

With no warning, Cullen had dipped his head between her thighs again and thrust the flat of his tongue into her core. He hummed with amusement at her surprised shout, which only amplified Ellana’s arousal. Words were useless. They couldn’t explain how she felt.

~~~

“Are you done yet?” asked Ellana, as she hovered behind Varric while he was seated at his writing desk.

“Never rush an artist,” Varric replied.

“Ugh, it’s not like I’m _commanding_ you to be done. I’m just—”

“—pestering me,” Varric chuckled.

“Checking in!” Ellana clarified. “Fine, I’ll leave you alone then.” She pouted.

“Before you go, could you be a dear and pour me a glass of Mackay’s Epic Single Malt?”

“It’s right _there_ , Varric!” Ellana grunted, pointing to the bottle that sat on his desk not six inches away from his hand.

“But I need my delicate fingers to craft something to sweep Cassandra off her feet!” he protested.

Ellana pouted, then stalked over and poured a draught of the single malt for Varric. “You’re getting spoiled,” she joked.

“Yeah?” Varric countered with a smirk, “well, you’re walking funny.”

“I am NOT!” Ellana protested, blushing. “We haven’t—”

“Don’t act all embarrassed, Lady. You’re providing material for the book!” Varric winked.

“Varric, Don’t you DARE!” she shrieked.

“Take it easy, your Inquisitorialness,” Varric replied. “The names will be changed to protect the guilty. Now shoo! I have art to make.”

~~~

Cullen dragged his tongue slowly up, up, up to her clit. When he reached that little nodule of pleasure, he gripped her around the hips and sucked. Hard.

Ellana screamed so loudly that Cullen had to reach up and cover her mouth with his hand. When she got something resembling her wits about her, she playfully took his fingers into her mouth and nibbled and licked them one by one. Between her thighs, Cullen kissed her as deeply, as passionately as he ever did, marveling at how she trembled and moaned for him, before stopping abruptly, which made her cry out in frustration. He pulled his fingers out of her mouth and teased her opening with them, growling against her wetness, “What do you say?”

~~~

“Are you going to tell me or not?” Dorian asked Ellana impatiently. “You wouldn’t keep secrets from your _best_ friend, would you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Who _told_ you about this? I have to know if there’s a leak. If Cassandra finds out—”

“So it _is_ true!” Dorian exclaimed.

“I don’t know why you’re so excited,” Ellana said with a smirk. “I thought you hated _Swords & Shields_.”

Dorian sighed. “I hate _Swords & Shields_ the same way I hate Fereldan beer and Bull. Not at all, and it fills me with shame.”

“As long as it’s not harming anyone, I see no reason why anyone should feel guilty about taking pleasure in something.” Ellana said with a shrug. “Was it Cole? It was Cole, wasn’t it?”

Dorian hesitated. “...Yes.”

“Damn it.” she grunted. “Well, at least now you and Cullen have something _else_ to talk about over chess.”

“Yes, right after I’m done quizzing him about all the caterwauling coming from his tower during broad daylight,” he said with a playful smile.

“It was just the _one_ time!” Ellana protested.

“My love, it is never just the one time.”

~~~

Ellana reached down and curled her fingers in his hair. “I love you, Cullen.”

He gasped. She’d said it before, he reminded himself, but never when she’d been so vulnerable to him. But now she said it with such aching sweetness, keening as though he’d sundered something within her. Cullen looked up to see that her cheeks wet with tears. “Up,” he whispered. “On your knees.”

To her surprise, he slid beneath her. “You’re not going to hurt me,” he assured her as he reached up and dragged the flat of his palm down her back so that she would follow his movement. When she’d eased herself down, he gripped her hips and returned to his work, writing secrets inside her with his tongue, signing his name as he felt her walls begin to tighten around him. _I was here. You are mine. And in exchange, I give you everything I am._

Ellana quivered above him, full of heat and fear and delight and oh oh oh what is this. A tingle started deep in her belly and then it grew, reverberating like a great string plucked until her whole body sang, “Cullen!” She clenched his tongue in great, tempestuous waves and rode out her pleasure while Cullen zealously lapped and sucked between her folds, moaning almost as loudly as she was.

~~~

Finally, Varric’s masterpiece of smut was completed. As promised, Ellana accompanied him to make the special delivery to Cassandra. She was sitting on a bench, alone, deep in thought until she saw them approach. She raised her eyebrow at them. “What,” she asked, “have you done now?”

“You’re not still sore, are you, Seeker?” Varric said with a smirk. “I thought we kissed and made up!”

Cassandra crossed her arms. “Kissed and made up?! This isn’t some lover’s spat, Varric!”

“I certainly hope not, because I’m already in a relationship,” Varric continued, not noticing the flush that had begun to spread on Cassandra’s cheeks. “A peace offering. The latest installment of _Swords & Shields_.” He lowered his voice to a flirtatious growl. “I hear you’re a fan.” He held the volume out to her like one might hold out a bone for a dog.

Cassandra narrowed her eyes at Ellana. “This is _your_ doing.”

“Someone had to do it,” Ellana said with a smirk.

When Cassandra didn’t extend her hand to take the book, he shrugged and started to walk away. “Well...if you’re not interested, you’re not interested. Still needs editing anyhow...”

Cassandra cried out, “Wait!”

Oh how Ellana wished she could have seen the look on Varric’s face before he turned around, slowly, to face them. “Ha! You’re probably wondering what happens to the Knight-Captain after the last chapter.”

The Seeker’s eyes grew wide and she gasped. “Nothing should happen to her! She was falsely accused!”

“Well...it turns out the guardsman—” Varric began before Cassandra rushed forward and snatched the book from his grasp.

“Don’t tell me!” she exclaimed before she began to abscond with her prize.

Varric cleared his throat. “This is the part where you thank the Lady. I don’t normally give sneak peeks, after all.”

Cassandra was still for a moment, then turned and faced Ellana with a radiant smile. “I—thank you!”

“Varric’s the one you should be thanking,” Ellana said, returning the smile.

Varric bowed. “I am but a humble servant for my—”

He was interrupted by Cassandra, who skidded to her knees in front of him, wrapped her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek.

At first he seemed surprised by her unbridled enthusiasm, but then his arms went around her as well, and he turned his head slightly, so that her lips were at the corner of his mouth. Varric pressed a kiss to the corner of Cassandra’s mouth in turn, and it could easily have been interpreted as a friendly gesture were it not for the sigh that escaped him when Cassandra ended their embrace and stood back up. Even then, he seemed as bewildered by his reaction as Ellana. 

Cassandra was too giddy to notice. “I wonder if I have time to read the first part?”

“Don’t forget to tell all your friends!” exclaimed Varric. He sighed and walked away. “Completely worth it.”

Cole approached to listen to the story. Dorian and Cullen walked past to engage in their semi-weekly chess match. And Cassandra sat back down on her bench and dove into the new delight before her.

~~~

“I—I _never _…” panted Ellana, still shuddering.__

__Cullen pulled her down into his arms. They kissed languorously, each tasting themselves on the other’s tongue, until they both drifted off to sleep._ _


	15. A Summer Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hearts collide in the strangest ways while Ellana is away from Skyhold.

Dorian dragged Ellana from whatever boring thing she was doing at Skyhold and said, "Come with me. You have to see this."

She rolled her eyes. "But I have to go sit in judgement for Mistress Poulin."

"This is _much_ better", said Dorian, as they rushed past some soldiers. "Trust me."

Finally, they ended up outside Cullen's tower. Ellana whispered, "That's it? You want me to go talk to Cullen?"

"No, my love." Dorian shifted her head so she could look into Cullen's window. "I got him a fruit basket. It appears he's rather fond of peaches," he whispered, gently directing her head towards the window.

Ellana peered inside, and sure enough, there was Cullen, leaning against his desk, hand to mouth, about to take a bite of the fruit in question.

Cullen bit into the peach and moaned. It was _very_ ripe. So much so, that its juices exploded, causing the fluid to flood his mouth, so that it dribbled down his chin . Not satisfied, he licked the excess liquid from the fruit so it wouldn't drip onto his armor.

Then he looked up and saw her. His eyes grew wide for a moment, and Ellana could see the blush spread from his ears to his face and down his neck. She half expected him to hide behind his desk. _But_...

He fixed her with his eyes, drew the peach to his mouth and licked the place he'd torn open earlier. Slowly. While humming. Then he took another lustful bite of the fruit, and sucked the juices into his mouth, moaning wantonly and causing more to spill down his chin and neck.

He wiped his lips with the back of his hand and smiled at her. "Help clean me up?"

She couldn't get to the door fast enough.

~~~

Dorian had done it on purpose of course. He’d been trying to nudge the two of them into—what was the expression again? 

Oh, right. Fucking. 

For _weeks_ now.

Cullen and Ellana were both so tentative and inexperienced that it would have been adorable were it not so blindingly obvious that they were meant to be together. Why prolong things? She could die tomorrow.

And there it was. The heart of it. She could die tomorrow. _Any_ tomorrow. Dorian was quite sure that were something to happen that would cut Ellana’s life short, that Cullen would not be long after, especially if he never got to be with her. His friend was a man who nearly let himself be buried by regrets before he let her save him, but without her...

So he and Sera concocted a plan about the fruit basket. Not horribly original, sure, but who cared, as long as it worked?

It didn’t work.

Dorian slammed the flat of his palm on the bar at the Herald’s Rest. “Sun Blonde Vint One.”

Cabot hesitated. “That’s from the Inquisitor’s personal collect—”

“Don’t know whether you’ve noticed, but the Herald’s a rather forgiving sort,” Dorian snapped. _She’d have to be_. “She’ll get over it.”

“Suit yourself,” said Cabot as he poured a glass of the spirit and sprinkled some catsbane on top.

Dorian grabbed the bartender by the wrist. “Leave the bottle.”

The dwarf did as he was told, and left a small bowl of catsbane for Dorian so he wouldn’t kill himself drinking the incredibly strong brew. He was fine with explaining to the Inquisitor why one of her rarest vintages was missing, but not about the death of her best friend.

The Iron Bull sidled up alongside Dorian and laid his hand on the mage’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Why does something have to be wrong?” asked Dorian. He shook his head vigorously after downing his first glass. “I like to drink. That’s no secret.”

Bull muttered, “You’re a terrible liar, Dorian. You only drink the really strong stuff when you’re scared. So.” He wrapped his arm around Dorian’s shoulders. “Why don’t you start over and tell me what this is _really_ all about?”

Dorian heaved a long sigh, folded his arms on the bar, and rested his head on top of his arms. He made a subtle tilt of his head in the direction of Cullen’s tower, then poured himself another drink.

“You’re afraid...for Cullen?” Bull whispered incredulously. “He’s one of the best warriors I’ve _ever_ seen. I think he can take care of him—”

“It’s not that. If something should happen to Ellana...it would _kill_ him.”

Bull poured himself a glass of the Sun Blonde and downed it. “That’s why they have us.”

“They? Us? What do you mean?”

“When I first signed on with the Inquisition, it was as Asaaranda's personal bodyguard.” Bull poured himself another drink. “Do you know how many people are trying to kill her on a regular basis? People are trying to infiltrate Skyhold every week to assassinate her. Only Red and I know about every attempt that has been made.” He turned to Dorian. “In the Qun, finding one’s purpose and dedicating yourself completely to that purpose is seen as the ideal. It took me a long time, longer than most, but I finally found mine. My purpose is to protect her.”

“I thought you were done with all that nonsense when you became Tal-Vashoth,” Dorian grumbled as he stared at the now half-empty bottle. 

“I still follow the Qun in my own way,” Bull answered in a measured tone of voice, “just like _you_ still think slavery is acceptable as long as the master is _nice_.” Bull shook his head. “You’re missing my point. The point is, protecting Asaaranda is our job. Physically, Cullen can take care of himself, but you’re right. Losing her would break him. That’s why we’re here, Dorian. To stop that from happening. This way we get to protect them both, the greatest gift we can give them. So don’t worry about when they’re going to buck the forbidden horse. For those two, sex actually _means_ something.”

“Are you implying that sex doesn’t mean anything to me?” Dorian snapped.

“ _Shit_ ,” grunted Bull. “No, Dorian. I just meant that—”

“Sex means nothing to _you_ , then?” The mage was in no condition to be reasoned with, and now things were spinning out of control. “This,” Dorian gestured back and forth to himself and Bull, “means _nothing_ to you?”

Bull groaned and drew the flat of his palm down his face. “It’s not like that, I swear!”

Dorian got up and took the bottle with him. Bull grabbed Dorian gently but firmly by the wrist. “Dorian, _don’t_ —”

“What do _you_ care?” 

“That stuff does _not_ mess around,” Bull replied. “It could kill you!”

“Fine.” Dorian jerked his hand free and slammed his glass so hard against the bar that it shattered, then set the bottle down next to the broken shards. He extended a warning finger at Bull. “Stay away from me. I don’t want to see you again unless I _have_ to!”

And then he fled.

~~~

Cullen lay next to Ellana, limbs entangled with hers, and laid sleepy kisses on the back of her neck, her shoulders, and the tips of her ears. The full moon illuminated the entire room, and a warm soft breeze caressed his skin. Life was good. 

There was a knock at the door downstairs. _At this time of night_? _Maker’s breath_!

He swung his legs out of bed and pulled his trousers on. He had just reached for his sword when he heard a low rumbling whisper like distant thunder. “Cullen. It’s me. Put your sword down.”

It was Bull. Remarkably, he was still on the other side of the door waiting to be let in but knew exactly what the Commander was doing. Cullen put the sword back down and padded towards the stairs. “Nice of you to put on some pants first,” Bull added from behind the door.

Cullen found himself wondering if Leliana could tell the same things about people just from listening to the air around them. 

Finally, Cullen got to the door and opened it. “May I...come in?” Bull asked politely.

Cullen stood there, moonlight illuminating him from behind, belt-less trousers slung dangerously low on his hips and rubbed the back of his neck, as he was wont to do. “All right,” he said with a shrug. 

As he made his way back up the stairs, Bull chuckled. “Ellana is a lucky woman,” he whispered. 

Cullen paused when he reached the threshold and turned slowly to look back at Bull, eyebrow raised. “How’s that?”

“Easy, Cullen. I’m taken. And so are you. I respect that.” Bull held his hands out in a placating gesture. “But...damn. You’re... _really_ hot.” He looked over at Ellana, who was still fast asleep and gave her a ‘thumbs up’ gesture. 

Cullen smiled. “Thanks?” He glanced over at Ellana then back at Bull. “Was there something you needed? I doubt you came all the way over here in the middle of the night to flirt with me.”

Bull gestured to Ellana’s couch. “May I sit?”

Cullen nodded.

“Dorian and I had a fight,” Bull said simply as he sat down.

“What about?” Cullen asked.

“Not sure if that’s really important,” Bull answered. 

Cullen paused and sniffed the air. “Is that...Sun Blonde Vint I smell on your breath?”

Bull smirked. “That’s pretty good, how did you figure that?”

Cullen smirked back. “I used to have a bottle of it stashed away while I was at Kinloch Hold. Then some arsehole stole it.”

Bull’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh, that’s not right. That has to be rectified. Here.” Bull put a cork in the bottle and tossed it to Cullen.

“Thanks,” Cullen said as he caught it one-handed. He looked at it in the moonlight. “Is this...from Ellana’s collection?”

“It’s...kind of a long story. Besides,” Bull reached across and slapped Cullen on the back. “What’s hers is yours, right? You two are practically married.”

Cullen uncorked the bottle and took a slug from it. “Not yet,” he grimaced.

“Hmm,” Bull grunted. “You know, the fight was actually about you two.”

“Us?” Cullen asked, and coughed a bit, as he’d just swallowed a mouthful of the Sun Blonde.

“Dorian’s worried about how...um... _slowly_ things have been progressing.”

“Progressing? What—oh.” Cullen cleared his throat and blushed furiously. 

“See?” Bull said, pointing at Cullen, “that was _exactly_ my point. It _means_ something to you. You don’t enter anything lightly—”

“I certainly wouldn’t enter _her_ lightly,” Cullen said with a snort, laughing at his own joke and then blushing again because _Maker how could he be so crass_?

Bull had to bite his fist to keep from laughing. “Okay, that one was pretty good.”

“I don’t even know where that came from,” Cullen said, still laughing.

“Cullen?” Ellana whispered, “who are you talking to?”

“Asaaranda!” 

Cullen marveled at Bull’s change in demeanor. He had gotten to his feet and was almost reverent towards her.

“Hello, Bull!” Ellana intoned sleepily but cheerily. “Fancy meeting you here…” she mumbled before falling back asleep.

Bull cleared his throat and continued when he detected Ellana's breathing reach a steady rhythm. “Anyway, I said to Dorian, _that_ was why you two were taking your time. Because it means something to you. He took that as implying that the sex doesn’t mean anything to me, or that I was saying that it doesn’t mean anything to him...ugh, I don’t know.”

Cullen sighed and ruffled his hair. “I am the last person that should be giving advice on this topic.”

Bull hesitated, then asked in a tone more vulnerable than Cullen had ever heard from him, “You two are his _best_ friends. You’re practically his family now. Please, talk to Asa—Ellana. See if you can’t...make things right.”

Cullen clasped Bull’s hand in both of his. “I promise to try.”

~~~

Varric hummed as he tapped out a simple 4/4 beat with his pen on his writing desk. Leliana happened to be walking by, lugging a huge fruit basket on her way back to the rookery. She paused. “Is that... _yours_ , Varric?”

Varric shrunk back. If he was completely honest, which he wasn’t, he’d admit that he was a little scared of the Nightingale. ‘I—it’s just...you know, something I’ve been noodling around with.”

“Let me see—” she began eagerly, and she snatched his lyrics off the desk before he could stop her. She scanned the page for a few moments and then smiled warmly. “Varric, this is _magnificent_!”

“Short, but sweet,” he replied, holding his hand out for Leliana to return the sheet to him, only to be soundly ignored. 

“This...do you have a melody for it?” she asked.

“Just—snatches, really,” Varric answered. “I’m not the most musically adept—”

“Nonsense!” objected Leliana. “I’ve heard you at Sing-quisition practice. Don’t be so modest.” She paused to think a moment. “I’m getting my lute. I’ll be right back!” She shoved the paper back at Varric and took off towards her rooms, leaving the fruit basket behind.

Varric plucked a red summer apple from the basket and took a bite.

~~~

She was back faster than he’d expected, apologizing profusely about storage and dust and tuning.

Varric smirked at her and said nothing. That lute looked well and recently loved. The Nightingale just didn’t want people to know that there was still a soft side of her to be found. Leliana pulled up a chair and rested her lute on her lap.

“Do you have something to hold the lyric sheet up?” Varric asked. There was a knock on his door. “Harding in Hightown!” he exclaimed as Scout Harding opened the door and let herself in. She had a music stand in her grasp. “Here you go, Sister Leliana. One music stand from the Sing-quisition practice room!”

“I’m _always_ thinking ahead, Varric.” Leliana said with a smile. “Now. Give me that beat again, and let’s see where this goes…”

“Can I stay and listen?” asked Lace.

“No!” answered Varric.

“Yes!” exclaimed Leliana enthusiastically.

“Yes…” mumbled Varric.

“Yay!” exclaimed Lace, clapping her hands with delight.

“That’s what this piece is missing, among other things. Hand-claps!” said Leliana. “Now. One, two three, four!”

~~~

“ _Ella eats bread and butter_

_Like an empress would have ostrich and cobra wine_

_We'll have a blood-soaked Wintersend_

_And play piano in the chateau lobby”_

Leliana chanted the words while Varric and Lace kept the beat. Eventually, she began to strum in the key of C. D minor. F. G7. And repeat. It was only a matter of time before a melody began to take shape.

_"I've never done this_

_Darling be gentle_

_It's my first time_

_I've got you inside"_

F. G7. F. G7. It practically wrote itself. In the back of her mind, Leliana wondered why Varric was writing a song from Cullen’s perspective. Why not his own?

_"People are boring_

_But you're something else completely_

_Damn, let's take our chances"_

F. G7. F. G7. Varric looked up at Leliana with a look of amazement. It was happening. They were bringing his misanthropic love song into being.

~~~

Cullen was never able to ask Ellana about what to do for Dorian and Bull. That left him of _all_ people in charge of mending the rift between them. Luckily, she had taken neither of them with her on what she hoped would be the final hurdle to retaking the Emprise: capturing Suledin Keep and taking down the dragons that had been terrorizing the region. Accompanying her were Blackwall, Solas, and Cole. She had, at least, left a note saying she’d send a raven every day so he wouldn’t worry.

 _Don’t think about the Desire demon. Don’t think about the Desire demon. Don’t_ —

He knocked on Dorian’s door.

“Go away.”

“But then who will play chess with me?” asked Cullen.

Cullen heard several bumps and crashes before Dorian finally opened the door, squinting at the bright sunlight. “Ugh, I _hate_ you.”

“Hmph. You _love_ me,” Cullen said with a wink.

“Tease,” Dorian joked. “What do you want?”

“Can I come in?”

Dorian bowed, and with much ornamentation and pomp, welcomed Cullen inside. There were empty, discarded bottles everywhere and the Commander almost broke his neck trying to navigate his way towards the only piece of furniture that didn’t have something indecent draped over it: The Holy Armchair.

The Holy Armchair was one of a pair of decadently comfortable pieces of furniture “acquired” from Tevinter as a gift from an old friend of Dorian’s. The other one, The Armchair of Great Temptation, resided in the library. Ellana liked to sit in it every chance she got, and she was slight enough to be able to actually sit beside Dorian without crowding him.

“Ooh,” Cullen murmured as he eased himself down.

“If your armor scratches the upholstery, I will set you on fire,” snapped Dorian.

“Mew!”

“What was that?” Dorian asked.

Cullen leaned his head back against the wall. “Samahl, you were _supposed_ to stay quiet.”

“You brought your boys? Why?”

Cullen retrieved the kittens from the pockets of his cloak. “I knew you needed cheering up. So...kittens.”

The little furballs scampered to Dorian’s bed and clambered on top of him like he was a favorite uncle. “Little rascals, I could eat you up!” he sighed, scratching Sulahn under the chin.

“So,” Cullen began, as he picked up a stray book by Brother Genitivi that looked interesting. “What happened with you and Bull?”

His answer was a thrown pillow to the face.

Cullen sighed. “At least it wasn’t a bottle.”

“And risk ruining your pretty face for Ellana?” Dorian laughed. “Maker forfend!” He thought for a moment, then continued, “Of course, she _does_ like that scar…”

“ _Everyone_ likes the scar,” said Cullen. “I swear, I’ve gotten more indecent proposals since I acquired this thing than I had in my _entire_ life prior.”

“Scars are _sexy_ ,” observed Dorian, nuzzling Samahl.

“I’m not complaining,” Cullen retorted, “and you’re derailing the conversation.”

Dorian flopped back down on his bed. “If I tell you about the fight, then I have to tell you why we fought, and now that I am no longer drunk but instead painfully sober, I…”

“You’re wondering why Ellana and I haven’t fucked yet.”

That got Dorian’s attention. “That’s kind of a crude way to put it.”

“Disrespectful?” asked Cullen, raising his eyebrow. 

Dorian mirrored the gesture. “...Yes.”

“Well, then now you know how I feel when our best friend is getting angry about things that don’t affect him personally, and are frankly, none of his business.”

Dorian bit his lip and said nothing. Yet.

“But because you are our best friend, I will enlighten you anyway,” Cullen continued, resting the book on his knee. “Yes, my tremors have stopped. The pain comes and goes, but it’s...lessening...in its intensity. My issues are not the only issues at hand, however. Ellana’s magic...it’s…”

“Unstable when she’s...aroused,” Dorian finished for him. “It happens to a lot of mages. Probably one of the reasons why you Southerners liked to lock us up.” He chuckled. “You know, it’s almost too bad you aren’t a templar any longer. You could dampen her magic—”

“You don’t need lyrium to do that,” Cullen said quietly. “Well, it’s not dampening so much as refocusing. There are certain points on the body, where, when you apply the right kind of pressure, you can redirect the energy.”

Dorian’s eyes widened.

“I discovered it by accident, and I would never use it to render her helpless, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Cullen continued. “Anyway, she’s only recently been able to handle more...intimate activities, but I don’t want to rush her. Just because you _can_ doesn’t mean you _have _to.”__

__Dorian opened his mouth and then shut it again._ _

__“Did you want me to teach Bull?” Cullen asked with a smirk. “Because I could do that if you don’t want to set any more curtains on fire.”_ _

__“Hmph,” Dorian grunted. “That ship has sailed.”_ _

__“And why is that?”_ _

__“Because he thinks I’m some sort of cheap slut he can get liquored up and bugger whenever he wants.” Dorian turned his nose up in the air. “I deserve better than that.”_ _

__Cullen stared at Dorian, who was studiously avoiding eye contact by tossing a ball of wadded up parchment for the kittens to chase after like it was the most complicated and engrossing activity ever. Sighing, he rose from the Holy Armchair. “Well, if that’s the way you feel about it, I don’t see much point in trying to convince you otherwise.” He patted Dorian gently on the shoulder on his way back out the door. “Could you return the boys when you’re done spoiling them? Inspections.”_ _

__Dorian quickly got to his feet. “Inspections? Maker, I’m late!” He pulled a shirt on._ _

__“She’s already gone, Dorian. Won’t be back for at least two weeks.”_ _

__Dorian sighed and sat back down on his bed. “Well, shit.”_ _

____

~~~

The impromptu duet had grown to a full ensemble. Varric on percussion, Leliana on the the lute, Lace on hand claps, Josephine on tambourine and, ironically, Cullen on vocals. What added to the hilarity of the situation was that he didn’t realize the song was written from his perspective until about halfway through.

_"I wanna take you in the kitchen_

_Lift up your wedding dress you likely murdered someone in_

_So bourgeoisie to keep waiting_

_Dating for twenty years just feels pretty civilian"_

“I would _never_ say ‘bourgeoisie’, Varric!” Cullen protested.

Varric stood firm. “No more rewrites, Curly!”

“What’s amusing is that you don’t seem to have a problem with the implication that you’d deflower Ellana on the kitchen floor in a blood-soaked wedding dress,” Leliana added with a smirk.

“If we make it that far,” Cullen said with a tiny smile, his ears turning bright red.

“Oooh!” 

He cleared his throat. “We have work to do.”

Leliana smiled. “Of course.”

_"I've never thought that_

_Ever thought that once in my whole life_

_You are my first time"_

“I have a suggestion, Varric!” Josephine said, raising her hand and bouncing on the balls of her feet like a schoolgirl.

“Is it a lyrical change?” asked Varric warily. “Because the answer on that is still no.”

“No! Nothing like that!” she exclaimed. “I was thinking...this piece could really use an Antivan horn duet at the bridge.” She pointed at a spot on the now much more detailed sheet music.

Varric stared at her. “Do we even have one person, let alone two people who can play Antivan horn?”

Cullen groaned. “I know someone, but I’ll have to pull him from skull duty.”

“I can expedite his return,” offered Josephine. “Anyone else?”

_"People are boring_

_But you're something else I can't explain_

_You take my last name"_

Leliana spoke up. “Doesn’t your _brother_ play, Josie?”

Josephine frowned. “Yes. But...he’s so... _shiftless_!”

Cullen smirked. “We’re _all_ making sacrifices, Lady Ambassador. Come,” he winked. “It’s for a good cause.”

“Ugh,” Josephine groaned. “I _hate_ you.”

~~~

“ _Absolutely_ not,” said Vivienne. “I am _not_ using my magic for such frivolous nonsense!”

“But what about magic being meant to serve man, Lady Vivienne?” Cullen asked.

“Are you trying to say that the Maker would condone using magic in such crude cases as this?” She raised her eyebrow at the Commander. “ _Really_?”

Cullen tried another tack. “It’s for Inquisition morale, Madame de Fer. Surely _you_ can appreciate the need for such things.”

Vivienne sat down on her chaise and began to read a book. That was her cue to Cullen that she was done talking to him.

He bowed politely, and made a tactical retreat, running his hand through his hair, just barely avoiding getting his gauntlet stuck. Again. He was left with only one more option...and he would have to brace himself for it—

~~~

Sera clung to the door of her private room in The Herald’s Rest as it swung open. “Hello there, Cullen-Wullen!”

“Sera. I have…” he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Business to discuss.”

“ _Serious_ business?” she asked, feigning a somber expression.

Cullen had no idea what to say to that.

“Step into my office, Cully-Wully, and we’ll find out how serious your business is.”

Cullen looked around and whispered, “Are you going to shut the door?”

“Of course!” she answered with an amused snort. “I’m very discreet.”

His expression grew nervous. “People might get the wrong idea—”

Sera shouted at the top of her lungs, “I like ladybits only!”

“The very soul of discretion,” muttered Cullen as he walked inside and Sera locked the door behind him.

The elven rogue plopped down on a huge pile of mismatched pillows and gestured across from her to a less-comfortable chair she apparently reserved for visitors. Cullen grudgingly took the offered seat and tried to drape himself onto it as casually as possible. He steepled his fingers and peered over them at Sera. “I need a favor.”

“Well , of course you do,” Sera replied. “Favors are what our entire relationship is based on.”

“We don’t have a relationship,” Cullen asserted. Sera raised an eyebrow at him. “I—I mean, of course we have a _professional_ relationship, just not a personal one.

“Do you want a personal relationship, Cullen-Wullen?” Sera asked with a smirk. “Because no ladybits.”

“Um. Not _that_ kind of personal relationship. Something more like what you have with Ell—The Inquisitor—”

“Oh come off it,” she said, laughing. ‘When I can hear you clear across Skyhold moaning her name and telling her that you’re coming, titles seem a bit much, don’t you think?” 

Cullen blushed and buried his face in his hands. “Forget it. Nothing is worth the embarrassment—”

He got up to leave, but Sera caught him by the arm. “I—I’m sorry. Please, sit. I want to help. Tell me what you need. Is it for her?” Satisfied that he wasn’t going to leave, she busied herself with pouring two glasses of wine, then handed one to Cullen.

He shook his head. “No. Bull and Dorian had a fight. I’m trying to...help them...repair their relationship.”

Sera dropped back down to her seat laughing and took a deep sip from her goblet. “Cully-Wully, that was all you had to say!”

Cullen sat and drank as well. “What do you want in exchange?”

She grinned cheekily and swirled the wine in her glass. “You first. What’s the job?”

He sipped his wine and raised an eyebrow at her. “How much do you know about elemental grenades, Sera?”

~~~

_"First time you let me stay the night_

_Despite your own rules"_

“It’s been such a _long_ time!” Leliana sighed.

“I never would have guessed—” Varric began. “I mean you’re an _incredible_ , um—”

“You don’t have to compliment me, Varric.” Leliana said with a smile. “You’ve already got me here.”

“Right,” grunted Varric. There was a long silence. “Let me know if there’s anything—”

Leliana caressed Varric’s cheek, “You’re doing fine. She doesn’t know what she’s missing,” she added, biting her lip and closing her eyes as she gripped the headboard.

“Who?” Varric sighed.

“The one you’re letting stand in the way of your happiness,” Leliana replied. She pressed her fingers to Varric’s lips. “Now hush and let’s enjoy this.”

~~~

_"You took off early to go close some rifts and smite fools_

_You left a note in your perfect script_

“Ice only?” Sera asked, taking notes.

“Yes, it’s very important that it be ice only. And nonlethal,” Cullen replied.

Sera tilted her head and scratched behind her ear with her pen. “Don’t know that ice’s ever been isolated from the rest of the elements in a grenade before. _I’ve_ certainly never—well that tears it. Now I’m just going to have to do it then, don’t I?”

“Are you sure you’ll be safe?” he asked.

Sera laughed. “Oh, Cullen-Wullen.” She reached out and ruffled his hair. “You’re so sweet. No wonder why she wuuuuuuuuvs you soooooo much!” She drained her glass. “I’ll be fine. Dagna’s in there. Nothing could possibly go wrong!”

~~~

_"Stay as long as you want_

_I haven't left your bed since"_

“Varric?” gasped Cassandra. 

The Seeker was...oddly attired. For one thing, she wore a _dress_. And it wasn’t just a dress, it was the dress of a lifetime: white, covered in dewdrop crystals and covered in hundreds of handmade red flowers that were sewn into the gown. And she was carrying a fine Tevinter vintage in her hand.

“Seeker!” Varric exclaimed, only partially in surprise.

Leliana turned around with no small amount of alarm. “Cassandra, it’s not what you—”

Cassandra slammed the door closed and left.

“Well,” whispered Leliana, “shit.”

“Yeah…” concurred Varric.

“How could I have been so blind?” Leliana murmured to herself as she got dressed.

“Blind to what?” Varric asked as he covered himself in his bedding.

“Cassandra is in love with you,” Leliana replied before walking out the door.

~~~

A magnificent Antivan Horn Duet played outside the locked door to the baths.

Dorian shivered. “Was this _your_ idea?”

Bull chuckled and shook his head. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” He looked at Dorian. “It meant something to me, Dorian. And I know it meant something to you or you wouldn’t have gotten so upset, so don’t bother trying to lie to me.”

Dorian crossed the room, looked up at Bull and sighed. He reached up to caress his cheek, then laid a kiss over his heart. “Dance with me, Amatus.”

_"I haven't hated all the same things_

_As somebody else since I remember"_

As Cullen’s tenor rang outside the walls that surrounded them, Dorian wrapped his arms around Bull’s neck. “You are terribly dull and I hate you,” he said.

Bull smirked and shook his head. “Dorian...you’re so beautiful.” He leaned in and kissed him. 

“Mmm...shut up,” Dorian sighed, kissing him back. “You talk too much.”

Bull lifted him up and braced him against the wall. “Oh really?” he said, “You want me to stop talking about your favorite subject?”

Dorian laughed. “Just for the moment. You can always,” he sighed, kissing his way down Bull’s neck, “pick up where you left off later.” Dorian squeezed Bull with his thighs.

_"What's going on for_

_What are you doing with your whole life"_

“I hope this ends soon,” Dorian moaned. “Amatus.”

“Kadan,” Bull whispered, pinning Dorian’s wrists above his head with one large hand.

And as they became one, a torrent of steam rose up all around them.

_"How about forever_

_How about forever"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is a "universe-appropriate" version of Father John Misty's magnificent "Chateau #4 (in C for Two Virgins)."
> 
> Go. Listen. Nao. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A6NuYJ0RzRg


	16. The Seeker and the Chevalier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana and Cullen plot to get Cassandra and Michel de Chevin together, making Varric jealous in the process.

_My Commander,_

_I feel like I’ve massacred most of the remaining Templar Order as I’ve been making my way towards Suledin Keep. It is the strangest feeling. A balance between anger and mercy. Anger at the monsters they have become and the way I know they have caused you so much grief, but granting mercy because you, my love, could have been one of them. I take no pleasure in it, and instruct the others to make it quick as well. But they keep coming._

_I am so sorry._

_It’s unnaturally cold here; summer and we still trod upon snow at least two feet deep when we leave the roads. The rivers and lakes are frozen solid. There are some nice hot springs. I thought about inviting you out to “inspect the Inquisition holdings” or whatever excuse that comes into your pretty, pretty head, so that we could...enjoy them, but we’d have to divest them of the numerous bronto corpses the dragons were leaving behind first. Luckily they are no longer a problem. Three dragons, Cullen! What does that bring my official count to? I think it’s up to eight now! I wonder what the record is..._

_Tomorrow I will attempt to take Suledin Keep. I will kiss your coin for luck!_

_All the love in my heart,_

_Ellana_

~~~

Blackwall was making a stew over the campfire and chatting with Solas, who was adding seasonings of his own to the meal. The Warden looked up at the stars and shook his head. “Those red templars... how could any soldier let that happen to them?”  
  
Solas shrugged and looked pointedly at Ellana. “They were templars.”  
  
Blackwall appraised the herbs Solas added and shrugged. “I suppose you might look down upon them, as a mage.”  
  
Solas sighed. He took full advantage of the fact that Blackwall needed to look at what he was doing and continued to visually address Ellana whilst answering him. “It is not looking down upon them to recognize what they are. Some, like Ser Barris, were thoughtful soldiers doing what they believed was right. The rest? Younger sons, petty criminals, thugs, bullies, orphans...Either they are accustomed to a life without choices, to following even the worst orders...Or they have learned to enjoy causing pain, to leap at any chance to swing a sword harder.”  
  
Ellana used every trick the Grand Game taught her to hide the sting that Solas’ tacit disapproval caused in her. She looked up to Solas and greatly respected him. He was the only one who knew what the Anchor really was, and as such was the only one she could confide in about it. Every time he complimented her growth or admired her actions, her heart swelled with pride. But there was one thing it seemed Solas would never accept; her relationship with Cullen. And that was non-negotiable. She sipped her elderberry tea and continued to read the book Dorian had leant her; Brother Genitivi’s “Thedas: Myths and Legends.”  
  
Cole always tucked her in when she invariably drifted off to sleep.  


~~~

Solas was waiting for her, sitting in the dappled moonlight.  
  
The world around them was strange and beautiful; crystal spires twining through trees whose branches spread across the sky. Beyond the treeline was the moon, full, and nearly close enough to touch, embraced by the clouds, themselves dotted with magnificent palaces. Permeating it all was the Song, a sweet harmonic humming that buzzed along the surface of her skin.  
  
Ellana shuddered at the beauty of it all. Suddenly Solas was behind her, and grasped her shoulders excitedly. “Arlathan,” he whispered.  
  
She turned and stared at him with wide eyes. “How did you—”  
  
“The Veil is thin here. That made it easier,” Solas said with a smile. “And I may have neglected to tell you that I have an excellent memory.”  
  
“It was like this?” Ellana breathed. “I remember what you said, but I thought it beyond imagining—”  
  
He laughed. “I’ve visited it in the Fade so often I could lead you about blindfolded.”  
  
“Show me.”  
  
Solas took her by the hand and led her across the cantillating river. “The names of these places have been lost to time,” he whispered reverently. “But there is one place...that I think you’ll be very fond of.”  
  
Descending in a feather fall, one of the sky palaces came into view. It was violet, carved entirely in the shapes of butterflies with elegantly gilded wings. When it finally came to a rest, Ellana could see that the wings of the butterflies were fluttering; and then, with the slightest shudder, they came alive, bursting forth in a dance around them.  
  
“They can take any shape you wish,” Solas said.  
  
The butterflies continued their promenade until they flourished into yet another recognizable shape.  
  
Skyhold.  
  
Ellana sighed happily. “Solas, I...never thanked you. For leading me there.” She looked at him and was startled to see that his expression was wistful.  
  
“It’s your home,” he sighed. “You have much affection—you’re...welcome.”  
  
Noting his disappointment, she let the butterflies take the shape of the palace again.  
  
“Why did you do that?” he asked softly.  
  
“You looked sad,” she answered. “After everything you’ve done for me, bringing this beautiful place into being...my homesickness must seem ungrateful to you.”  
  
Solas reached out and caressed her cheek. At that moment, the sun struck the horizon and the sky exploded with all the colors of the dawn. “Ellana,” he murmured. “You have such a kind heart. A wisdom beyond your years. Despite all the blood and the horror…it has not hardened you.” He took a ragged breath and smiled sadly. “I suppose I have Cullen to thank for that.”  
  
She blinked only for a moment and he was gone.

  


~~~

  


Blackwall’s stew was eaten in silence the following morning, and soon after, they set out to confront He Who Was Called Imshael, a sadistic Desire demon whom, it was rumored, was fond of calling himself a “Choice Spirit.” When they arrived at the gates of Suledin Keep, the Chevalier Michel de Chevin, disgraced one-time Champion of Empress Celene, was battling the Red Templars that guarded the entrance. After being saved from certain annihilation, as he was seriously outnumbered, Michel bowed politely and informed Ellana that she and hers would have to be on their own while he returned to Sahrnia, which Imshael had just infested with wraiths in his effort to divide the strength of any attack on his person. As he ran, Ellana considered telling him that she had troops stationed right outside the settlement that were probably already taking care of it, but thought better of it, sighed and shrugged. He would be less dead this way. And if he survived, maybe she could recruit him into the Inquisition.

If _she_ survived to recruit him.

_Where_ were all these Templars coming from? And it wasn’t _just_ Templars. That would have been a mercy. This place must have been very important to Corypheus. 

They had giants. Plural.

It dawned on Ellana that perhaps she should have given more serious thought to the idea of training a high dragon to lay siege to the Keep from above instead of killing all three of them. The demon was throwing his entire arsenal at them, and it was a bloody slog to get to him. Cole seemed particularly vulnerable to the pure brute strength of the giants and behemoths and more than once, Ellana thanked Mythal that she had chosen to become a Knight-Enchanter; without her Resurgence spell, they may not have survived.

Finally, they made their way to Imshael.

~~~

An urgent raven arrived for Cullen. It had flown straight into Ellana’s bedroom and perched on the footboard, crying incessantly until he awoke.

“ _Commander Cullen Rutherford of the Inquisition Forces…_ ”

No urgent letter that started that way was good. His heart sank and his mouth went dry.

“ _Inquisitor Lavellan was successful in restoring the Emprise to Orlais as promised. However, soon after taking Suledin Keep, she came down with a strange infection resulting from her battle with the demon known as Imshael. The ichor from the slain demon, as well as shards of red lyrium entered her bloodstream_ —”

He couldn’t finish it, couldn’t read the words with his hands shaking so. He did his best to dress himself decently and called for an emergency meeting in the War Room.

~~~

He hadn’t styled his hair.

He had completely neglected to put on any of his armor. 

Cloak, trousers, boots. Curly hair.

_Curly. Hair._

This is what greeted the Ambassador and Spymaster of the Inquisition in the War Room. They both rubbed their bleary eyes to make sure they weren’t still dreaming. 

Then Cullen handed the letter to Leliana, and soon everyone was wide awake.

~~~

“I’m coming with you,” said Cassandra, hurrying to catch up with Cullen’s long, insistent strides.

“You can’t,” Cullen asserted. “Someone has to train the troops in my stead.”

The Seeker paused. “Now might be a good opportunity for Sister Leliana to instruct them in close combat. After Halamshiral, Ellana—”

At the mere mention of her name, Cullen made a sharp intake of breath. “I said, _no_!” he snapped.

Cassandra crossed in front of him and blocked his path. “I’m not taking no for an answer, Commander. She’s—she’s _my_ friend too. And I’ve been to the Emprise. It’s not safe for you to go alone. There is red lyrium everywhere. And I mean _everywhere_.”

~~~

Ever since his arrival at Skyhold, Anders had been working as a healer, perhaps the most gifted and experienced one the Inquisition had at their disposal. When he heard of Ellana's sickness, he was only too happy to offer his services. "After all, I sort of owe her my life now, don't I?"

Sera rounded out Cullen's entourage as he set out for the Emprise, and that was by Cassandra's request.

"Are we there yet?" 

Sera and Anders got along like two peas in a pod, and, neither being the type that was comfortable when the people around them were worried, took turns acting like children. That is, when Anders wasn't asking Cullen antagonistic questions about Kirkwall.

“So, how many Harrowings have you overseen?”

Even Sera cleared her throat at that one.

Cassandra tried to intervene. “Anders, I don’t think now is the time for—”

“Fifty,” Cullen answered curtly.

There was a pause. “How many failed ones?”

“You want to talk about the blood on my hands, Anders?” he pulled on the reins of the Warmblood and rode to the side of the mage, facing him. “All right.” Cullen held up both his hands, fingers spread. “Ten. All of them in Kirkwall. Six men, four women. I remember their names, and I remember their faces. I will _always_ remember.” He growled, reached across, and grasped Anders by the chin. “Do _you_ remember all the people you killed? Oh wait, you _can’t_. You couldn’t even look them in the eye, you coward!”

Cassandra passed between the two men on her Amaranthine Charger. “Don’t let him bait you! Ellana needs—”

Cullen uncurled his fist and turned his mount away. Anders laughed and followed along on the Wild Hart.

“What,” Cullen said without turning around.

“You’re in _love_ with her! She’s a _mage_ and you’re in love with her,” a huge smile spread across Anders’ face. “Cullen, that’s extraordinary!”

“You must be the last person in Thedas to figure that out,” griped Cullen.

“I don’t keep up with gossip. Still, isn’t it ironic?” Anders asked.

“Isn’t what ironic?” Cullen asked, rubbing his forehead as a headache bloomed within his skull.

“If I hadn’t blown up the Chantry, you two would never have come together.”

“I was in love with her before you even came up with your little plan,” Cullen snapped, “so don’t go giving yourself credit—”

“But you didn't love her enough to leave the Templars. They had to fall from grace and mages had to be set free before you could allow yourself to be with her.” Anders smirked. “Was it worth it? The war, the death, the destruction, the chaos?”

“For Ellana?” Cullen whispered. “I would see the world burn to ash before I lose her again.”

~~~

They rode all night and arrived at Suledin Keep just as the sun rose. Both Cassandra and Sera opted to rest while Anders consulted with Solas and Cole. Cullen immediately rushed to Ellana’s side.

When he found her lying on a cot inside the Keep, her veins were black and raised against her tawny skin. “My darling?” he asked softly, taking her hand.

Ellana’s eyes fluttered open, her natural violet eyes laced with glowing red. She smiled weakly. “If I had known that,” she coughed, “all I had to do to get your attention was to smite a desire demon and get red lyrium poisoning...I would have done it sooner.” She gave him a cheeky smirk. 

Cullen brushed her bangs out of her eyes. “You got him?”

Ellana nodded and gripped his hand excitedly. “He wasn’t just _a_ desire demon, Cullen. He was _the_ desire demon. One of the Forbidden Ones!” Her eyes became unfocused for a moment. “Queen Elissa defeated Gaxxang the Unbound, Hawke killed Xebenkeck...and I smote Imshael.” She smiled as her eyes refocused. “Wow. I’m in good company.”

“Because killing eight dragons and being Inquisitor wasn’t enough to distinguish you?” Cullen gently teased. 

“Elves have to work twice as hard. You...wouldn’t...understand.” Exhausted from her illness, Ellana drifted off to sleep. 

Anders burst into her room carrying his healer’s bags and started to examine her. “Just _one_ of these infections would have been bad enough,” he grumbled. “But two?”

“Anders,” Cullen whispered, “will she live?”

“If Solas and Cole hadn’t been able to stabilize her, there would have been nothing I could do,” he said, rifling through tinctures. Anders smiled gently at Cullen. “But it seems your lady love has luck on her side.” He hung his head. “I’m...sorry I needled you earlier. Old habits die hard.”

“Thank the Maker.” Cullen sank to his knees and laid his head on the cot next to Ellana before succumbing to exhaustion himself.

~~~

It took three days of constant shifts between Solas, Anders, and Cole and continuous doses of Anders’ Crystal Grace-Prophet’s Laurel-Amrita Vein potion, but Ellana pulled through. She was still considered too frail to travel or work for another week, so Cullen opted to stay at Suledin Keep with her a little while longer. As such, he began to observe a friendship blossoming between Michel de Chevin, who had pledged himself to the Inquisition shortly before Ellana took ill, and Cassandra, of all people. 

“...and _Michel_?” asked Ellana, as she bounced up and down in her bed. “Really? What did you see? Tell me _all_ the gruesome details!”

Cullen’s lip curled a little. “I wouldn’t exactly call it gruesome—”

“Ugh,” Ellana groaned and pulled Cullen close so she could kiss him playfully on the cheek. “It’s just an expression! I got it from Varric.”

“Ah,” Cullen said with a sheepish smile and a nod. “Varric is rather prone to hyperbole, isn’t he?”

“That’s what makes his stories so great!” Ellana exclaimed.

“And unreliable! Listen, mon chaton, now that you’re out of the woods, you should know…” Cullen reached up and rubbed his neck nervously. “Apparently Varric and Cassandra had a quarrel—”

“ _Again_?” Ellana asked with no small amount of outrage. Cullen actually put his hand over her mouth to muffle the volume. She sighed and rolled her eyes after he let her go. “Is _this_ what happens when I’m away? Everyone starts scrapping like children?”

“I _hope_ children don’t scrap like that,” Cullen said, a blush rising to his cheeks.

“What?” Ellana stared at him with wide eyes.

He took a deep breath. Sister Leliana and Cassandra were not on speaking terms. Leliana had asked Cullen to intervene and he was sleeping on it when the raven informing him of Ellana’s sickness arrived. He did the best he could, under the circumstances, allowing Cassandra to think she’d had to convince him to let her accompany him to the Emprise. “It was...difficult to strategize,” he admitted, “when all I could think about was getting to you.”

“So...what happened that made Cassandra so angry at Varric and Leliana?” she asked.

“Well…”

~~~

_Five minutes later…_

“ _What_?!” Ellana shouted.

“Ssh!”

“Varric...and Leliana?” Ellana whispered with eyebrows raised. “How? Why? They barely talk to each other!”

“I got the distinct impression that it was...just a fling...for the both of them,” Cullen shot a confused look at Ellana, about as flabbergasted as she was that something like this could happen. “But Varric’s not talking to me. He assumes I’ll automatically side with Cassandra no matter what.”

“How did you find out?” she asked. “It couldn’t have been Cole, he was with me.”

“Bull,” he answered, then pulled her into his lap and kissed her. “Maker, there’s so much to tell you!” He stood up, lifting Ellana with him. “But first,” he carried her to the balcony, “you need some fresh air and sunshine.”

~~~

That night, Cullen held Ellana close as she slept, stroking her hair and whispering the story of how much he loved her against her skin until he drifted off to sleep himself.

~~~

That morning over breakfast Cullen and Ellana ate in silence as they observed the conversation between Michel and Cassandra as the latter recounted the events of the Imperial Masquerade Ball. 

“So then The Iron Bull—”

“The Iron Bull?” asked Michel.

“He’s the head of a mercenary company and a Qunari,” Cassandra answered.

“A Qunari?" Michel asked, "What was he doing at the ball?”

“Oh, he’s one of ours. Anyway—” Cassandra was interrupted by Sera plucking a piece of bacon from her plate. “Ugh! Do you mind? Get your own breakfast!”

Sera snapped into the meat and grinned. “You’re not telling Ser Pounce-a-Lot about the Mayhem, are you?”

“Did someone say Ser Pounce-a-Lot?” asked Anders, peeking around the corner before joining them at the table.

Sera pointed at the lion head on Michel’s breastplate. “I was just on about his armor.” She chuckled. “You and Cullen-Wullen should play croquet together or something.”

Cassandra narrowed her eyes at Sera and continued. “So then the Iron Bull hoisted Sera into the air and lofted her over the front rank—”

“With your bow drawn?” asked Michel, looking up at Sera, who had just picked up Solas’ teacup and took a sip. Solas groaned with annoyance.

Sera nodded. “Got a wedge-up something fierce, too!” She peered down at Solas and spitefully replaced his teacup. “Oh, stop your bellyaching, Egg. You don’t even _like_ tea.”

Solas pushed the now Sera-infested cup away from himself with disgust, but then nodded politely at Michel. “When in Orlais…”

Cassandra gritted her teeth, clearly not wanting to lose her temper in front of the former chevalier. “So, she landed on her feet and set off a hail of arrows into the crowd. She must have neutralized, what, eight Venatori! Right, Commander Cullen?”

“Seven,” Cullen answered with a smirk before sipping his tea. “She missed one. Luckily, I always carry a dirk in my boot. Just in case.”

“I understand you hit your target from fifty yards away, Commander,” opined Solas.

Cullen smiled. “I don’t like to brag about it.”

“Nonsense!” Solas exclaimed. “Bragging is laced with untruth. It was Bull who told me about your dagger toss to save your lady fair.”

Cullen turned to Ellana. “One of the Ventaori was right behind you when you rushed off in pursuit of the Duchess. He was about to stab you from behind, so I, um…”

“Killed him,” Solas supplied the words for him.

“Yes.”

Ellana smiled softly and she reached up and caressed Cullen’s cheek. “You never told me.”

Cullen pressed his forehead against hers. “What mattered to me was that you were safe.”

The couple suddenly noticed that the rest of the table had fallen silent and were staring at them. Blushing furiously, they both cleared their throats and attempted to return to their meals as if nothing had happened. Which made the others burst into a case of the giggles. 

"She doesn't even know the half of all the things he does for her and she loves him just the same," Cole murmured as he ambled onto the terrace before taking a seat with the others. He stared down at the tablecloth. "I think I want to eat." After a long silence, he looked over at Solas, "Solas? How do I eat?"

~~~

"Varric should have been here," Ellana said as she folded her legs underneath her on the chaise. "He would have been tickled."

"He, Dorian and Bull have been like his benevolent uncles for months," observed Cullen as he took a seat next to her. "They'll be so proud"

"The look on Solas' face—" Ellana said with a smirk, shaking her head.

"Speaking of Solas, I suspect that's who Cole was reading when he joined us for breakfast." Cullen looked at her meaningfully. "Is there—did he—I..." He bit his lip. Cullen wasn't sure how to broach the subject with Ellana without making it sound like he was suspicious of her. This was a situation that Leliana would advise him to approach sideways. Until he figured out what that meant, he would change the subject. “What did you think of Ser Michel?”

Ellana narrowed her eyes in confusion, as she had not expected the conversation to move in that direction. “He’s all right. I think we should try to angle for an imperial pardon for him, otherwise if he is to be any sort of a liaison with Orlais, things could be... _awkward_.”

“No, I meant for Cassandra,” he clarified.

“I suppose it depends on how he meshes with the rest of our little family,” she replied with a shrug. “And we won’t know that—”

“Until we return to Skyhold.”

~~~

That was, unless Skyhold came to them.

The next morning, Dorian, Vivienne, The Iron Bull, and Varric arrived at the gates of Suledin Keep. 

“When were you going to get around to letting me know how she was?” Dorian scolded Cullen. “The note made it sound like she was on the verge of death.”

“Wait, note?” Cullen asked. “Ugh, Leliana…”

Dorian crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes, I had to find out from Princess Stabbity herself.” He pointed at Cullen. “You _owe_ me.” He lowered his voice. “Was she? Did she almost—”

Cullen nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to worry too, but I realize now that I was selfish. If she’d...well, you never would have been able to say goodbye.”

Dorian sighed and pulled the Commander in for a hug. “You haven’t a selfish bone in your body, Cullen. I’m sure you were just so consumed with worry that you just...shut everything else out. So—” He stepped back and nodded towards Michel and Cassandra, who were sitting together. 

“—who’s the pretty boy hanging around the Seeker?” asked Varric.

“Michel de Chevin,” answered Vivienne, following after him. “Former Champion of Empress Celene. For a moment, I almost didn’t recognize him.” She appraised the pair for a moment. “It’s a good match, if we can get them to actually talk to one another.”

“Wait, what do you _mean_ , good match? Are you—” Varric began.

“Ellana and I thought that maybe they might make a good couple,” Cullen replied. “So, we’ve been arranging...situations for them to be close to each other, and seeing what unfolds.”

“Well, given Cassandra’s status, it’s appropriate. He’s also an accomplished player of the Game, so that will be a distinct asset in the long run should the Inquisition continue to operate for another decade or so,” Vivienne explained coolly. “Michel could...smooth out her rougher edges. Refine her. Like a diamond.”

Varric scoffed, “You’re as bad as her family, you know that? Maybe worse. Even they didn’t try to marry her off for some sort of tactical advantage they could exploit.”

“I’m not thinking of any gain for the Inquisition. Whatever happens,” Cullen asserted, “I just want her to be happy.”

Varric asked, “Does she _look_ happy to you?”

Dorian replied, “She doesn’t look _unhappy_.”

“Cassandra’s a romantic,” affirmed Vivienne. “Michel may have the knight in shining armor image on lock, but he’s going to have to take a more active role if this is to work.”

“She _wants_ to be swept off her feet,” Varric said quietly. “He’s not even _trying_. He’s just sitting there looking pretty. This is a _terrible_ idea.”

“Oh _really_ , Varric?” asked Vivienne with a slight twitch at her lips, “Do you have anyone else in mind?”

He stared at the pair for a long time, as if deep in thought, then said, “No. Excuse me, I’m going to go...visit the Lady. I’ll catch you all at dinner.”

The sound of Varric’s footsteps dying away gave way to The Iron Bull’s thunderous laughter. “Someone better call an emergency meeting in the War Room,” he quipped. “The entire Inner Circle has been struck blind!”

“Amatus,” Dorian said, a warm smile spreading across his face. “How long have you been standing there?” 

“Long enough,” Bull answered. “You’re wasting your time with the Seeker and the Chevalier. She’s not interested in him, for one thing. Look at her shoulders, they’re rounded forward, like she’s trying to shield her heart. Her legs are crossed away from him, so she’s not looking for a fling either. And that’s not even going into Varric.” He smirked. “He’s jealous. But he’s not going to act on it, or even admit it to himself without getting backed into a corner. That guy has his heart under lock and key like nothing else I’ve seen in a long time. I think he’s in for a world of hurt before he’ll open himself up.” He glanced across the assemblage of confused expressions that greeted him and continued, “Oh, I’m _sorry_. I thought I heard Cullen say something about wanting Cassandra to be _happy_. Her match isn’t sitting opposite her in the courtyard, he’s visiting Asaaranda and feeling sorry for himself without knowing why.”


	17. The Red March

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana and Sera make trouble for a heartless nobleman, but they have differing opinions of what 'trouble' entails...

The first thing Sera did when everyone arrived back at Skyhold was to ask Cullen and Ellana to return the favor she’d done for Cullen by concocting those ice grenades. Cullen, for his part, was relieved when he finally received his orders at the War Table. He thought he was going to get an ulcer from the dread of waiting for whatever ridiculous prank she had planned for him to carry out. 

“A march through Verchiel?” he asked. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Ellana said with a shrug, handing him Sera’s instructions, which were barely legible and covered in crude drawings.

Cullen scanned the missive. “ _So_ many cocks,” he mumbled, turning the paper sideways. “I thought she wasn’t, you know—”

“Yes, for someone exclusively attracted to women, she is rather preoccupied with the male...equipment,” concurred Leliana.

Everyone at the War Table shrugged and sighed collectively before continuing with the business at hand. Important matters.

“If you squint, Lake Calenhad is shaped like a bunny...” Cullen observed.

Josephine grimaced. “Perhaps we should take a—”

“Oh!” Leliana declared excitedly, “I think I see it!”

~~~

Sera was leaning next to the main entrance of Skyhold when Ellana walked outside. “Well?” she asked.

“You’ve got your march,” Ellana said with a smirk. “I hope you can appreciate the sacrifice I’m making. Cullen’s going to be gone for an entire _week_.”

“ _Your_ sacrifice?” Sera inquired with a puzzled expression. “Oh yeah!” She formed her fingers into a V and held them up to her lips before sticking her tongue through them. “Nice Chantry boy like Cully-Wully? Never would have guessed he was so...skilled.” She guffawed at the shocked look Ellana shot her. “I can _hear_ you, you know. His tower’s got holes in it and my room is right across the way.” She pitched her voice slightly lower and did a surprisingly good imitation of the Inquisitor’s lilting accent. “Oh Cullen, don’t stop. Yes! Just! Like! That! Ugh!”

Ellana wasn’t sure whether she should laugh or crawl into a hole and die. She decided to compromise. “I think I’m going to go kill a dragon now.”

“Isn’t that a week's journey just to get there?” Sera asked. “You’ve already killed every high dragon east of the Western Approach.”

Ellana paused halfway down the stone steps. “Damn it.”

“He’s happy though, yeah? Bet he’s as messy as you are when he’s done,” Sera said.

“What makes you think that?” asked Ellana, averting her eyes, concentrating on a raven taking flight.

Sera shrugged. “Lots of men under him. Needs a woman over him. Because _positions_.”

~~~

“Perhaps you should consider inviting Cullen to move in with you, my love!” Dorian grunted with effort as he attempted to set the giant on fire. “That way we can avoid little temper tantrums like this in the future.”

“Did you just hit that bronto?” growled Bull. “Dammit, Dorian!” 

“Oops!” 

“You’re not even sorry!” shouted Varric as he interposed himself between the charging bronto and Tramp, who was now too big to fit into Varric’s papoose, but still too small to fight. 

“Why didn’t you leave that fleabag back at Skyhold?” asked Dorian, as he side-stepped one of Ellana’s personal fade rifts. 

“Hey, I take my guardianship seriously,” Varric replied as he shot the bronto between the eyes.

“There are kennels,” Dorian sighed as one of his wards exploded under the bronto. “Cullen doesn’t take his kittens with him when he leaves Skyhold.”

“That’s because Cassandra—” Varric cut himself off. The Seeker was still a tender subject.

“She’s been borrowing them a lot lately,” Ellana said quietly after the giant crashed to the ground.

“Hey guys! I killed him!” exclaimed Bull.

“She _loves_ cats,” Varric murmured, as he stared at the ground. “She had a white kitten named Neve when she was a little girl, one of the last gifts her parents gave her, but her uncle was allergic, so she had to give her away to a relative.”

Dorian and Ellana looked at each other but said nothing. Tramp bounded up to his master and bumped his head under his hand. Varric scratched behind his ears absentmindedly.

“Guys!” shouted Bull. “Dead. Giant.”

“But she doesn’t want anyone to think she’s soft,” Varric continued with a soft chuckle, “so she just looks forward to when Cullen leaves Skyhold, which is practically _never_ , just so she’d have an excuse to play with his boys.”

“Guys!”

“Yes, we know, you big lummox!” Dorian turned, stood on his tiptoes and kissed Bull. “You’re a...bad...ass. That _is_ the proper terminology, yes?”

~~~

“Cullen!”

The Commander had been dozing at his desk. His eyes flew open. “Yes?” Then he looked up.

It was Bull. “When did you get back?” he asked.

Cullen shrugged. “That depends on how long I was asleep. It feels like it was only an hour, but—”

Bull had circled behind the Commander’s chair, then gripped him by the shoulders and yanked him to his feet. “Good. Go see to your girlfriend.”

“What?” Cullen was a bit confused. he was used to Bull referring to Ellana by the Qunlat title he'd given her.

"She's driving everyone else crazy."

"That's...surprisingly unhelpful," said Cullen.

Bull rolled his eye. "Let's just say that when she doesn't have regular access to you she gets... _really_ aggressive. And we’ll leave it at that."

~~~

Cullen was not expecting to see Ellana and Leliana sparring in the practice ring. Indeed, they were the last two people he’d ever thought would tussle. And then he noticed the Templars encircling them in a familiar stance. 

They were negating the Inquisitor’s magic.

He looked around, saw Dorian watching from a safe distance, and decided to join him there. It was odd, hanging back with a mage while the templars did their work, but it was a good sort of odd. He felt... _relieved_.

“If I get any closer, I start to feel queasy. I can only imagine how our girl is doing,” he said to Cullen, as he passed him a bottle of Fereldan beer.

“What’s going on?” Cullen asked. He took a swig, then passed it back.

“Well,” Dorian took a deep breath, finished what was left of the bottle, and continued, “ostensibly, this is because of Halamshiral and because the Red Templars now have assassins in their ranks. We ran into them in the Emerald Graves. Ellana wants to take all necessary precautions in case she is otherwise unable to defend herself.”

“Remember, everything within reach is a weapon,” barked Leliana as she swung her wooden daggers towards Ellana’s midsection, “Your staff, your opponent’s body, trees, dirt, rocks, doors, anything you can manipulate without magic. Show _no_ mercy!” 

Cullen watched, fascinated, as they circled one another. “Is...is that _my_ undershirt she’s wearing?”

It was indeed; paired with black leather pants and boots. 

_Simple_. 

_Functional_. 

_Sexy_. 

Cullen gulped.

Dorian chuckled. “What, would you have her fight in one of her mage robes? In this heat?”

It was a dance of ferocious grace between the two women; striking, blocking, counter-striking. Leliana flipped backwards to avoid a haymaker. Ellana rolled out of the way to escape a vicious kick.

“Does the rolling help?” Leliana called out mockingly. 

“If you keep talking trash,” Ellana replied, “you’re going to run out of breath, Nightingale!”

Hit. Block. Hit. Block. Leliana caught Ellana around the waist and shoulder and flipped her to the ground. When the Spymaster reached down to give her opponent a hand up, Ellana kicked her legs out from under her.

Leliana kipped to her feet. “You _dirty_ cheater!”

Ellana had also returned to a standing position and the women circled each other again. “Such accusations from the Left Hand of the Divine!” She pulled Cullen’s undershirt up to wipe the sweat off her brow, exposing a well-toned midsection. 

“Unusually warm weather we’re having, Dorian,” Cullen mumbled, shucking his cloak and folding it over his arm.

“Yes, I said that already.” Dorian turned to check on his friend. Cullen’s eyes were so dilated that looking at them was like gazing at a total eclipse of the sun. His skin was flushed and his breathing had sped up considerably.

When Ellana was done, she dropped the hem, smirked and said, “I learned from the best.” She jumped onto the fence and walked along the top split-rail before gesturing to Leliana. “The first one whose feet touch the ground loses.”

Leliana raised her eyebrow and climbed up to join her.

Cullen snickered. “I never thought I’d see Leliana make that much of a tactical error.”

Dorian shrugged. “She still has experience on her side.”

The Commander smiled proudly. “Has Ellana ever told you how she spent most of her time with her Clan?”

Dorian slowly turned back to look at the Inquisitor again. “Exploring the woods…”

“Up in the trees, Dorian.” He began to unclasp his armor. “She’s evening the odds.”

Dorian smirked. “And _why_ are you removing your armor, Commander?”

Cullen looked back up at Ellana and licked his lips with a lust-filled smile. “Where I’m going, it will just be in the way.” He called out, “Shapeley!” and began handing him piece after piece of metal, then finally dumping his cloak on top. “To my quarters, please.” Cullen waved off a wobbly Shapeley and went back to raking his eyes shamelessly over his girlfriend.

Sure enough, Ellana glided like a cat along the beams as they shuffled back and forth. More strikes on both sides were being landed; Leliana was concentrating more on maintaining her balance than she was about dodging blows while Ellana chose pressing her advantage over blocking. 

Leliana extended her arm and hit Ellana across the chest, knocking her backwards towards the Templars. She was so sure of her victory that she immediately bowed to the spectators present. But then the Nightingale’s keen eyes caught Dorian and Cullen’s awed expressions and turned around.

Ellana stood on the shoulders of one of the templars, arms extended to her sides, one leg bent in front of her like a hook.

Leliana smirked. “Are you just going to pose like that all day?” She delicately stepped off of the beam and onto the shoulders of another Templar. “Or are you going to _hit_ me?”

“Forward.” Ellana growled.

The Templar gingerly walked towards Leliana.

“You heard her, soldier.” Leliana said quietly. “March.”

Soon enough, the women had resumed their contest, precarious though their positions were. Ellana landed a kick to Leliana’s midsection that would have knocked her to the ground if she hadn’t forced the Templar down first to break her fall.

“Maker’s Breath,” Cullen exhaled.

“Is that _drool_ I see collecting at the corner of your mouth?” asked an increasingly amused Dorian. He called out, “Get her, Ellana! Knock her arse in the dirt!”

By chance, Ellana turned her head and saw Cullen. Her eyes widened for a moment, then seemed to unfocus as the rest of her face slid into a blissful smile. She climbed down.

“You do realize,” Leliana called after her, “that if you leave, I will consider it a forfeit.”

Ellana remained facing in Cullen’s direction and gave him a look that made him curl his toes in his boots. She shrugged. “So be it. I—” 

She was about to launch into a speech about how there was no shame in her losing to her Spymaster in single combat while having no access to her magic, but Cullen pinned her with his eyes as he bit his lip and she just trailed off.

“What was that, Inquisitor?” Leliana called out with a giggle.

“I...have...a _thing_ ,” she managed to murmur before breaking into a run, soon meeting Cullen who had taken off towards her and then caught her up in his arms before carrying her off to her quarters.

~~~

It was a noble effort on both their parts to attempt to get all their clothes off before ending up in the bathtub together. 

“Oh no!” Ellana moaned, “Now you’re going to have to stay until your smallclothes dry off.”

“And my undershirt,” Cullen smirked and nibbled at her pulse. “Truly a tragedy of epic proportions. Whatever shall we do while we’re stuck here together, my darling?”

Ellana whispered into Cullen’s ear.

“At the _same_ time?” he asked, a surprised grin spreading across his face. “You can _do_ that?”

~~~

“Built in pillow!” Cullen marvelled, settling on his side and laying a kiss on Ellana’s thigh before resting his head upon it. “This just keeps getting better and better.”

Ellana hummed happily. “The rash I’m going to get is going to be totally worth it.”

“Rash?” Cullen asked. “Why would you get a rash?”

“Your stubble, Cullen,” she answered. “It...chafes.” 

“I could shave—”

Ellana gasped, “Don’t you _dare_!” She sat up abruptly, which caused Cullen to lose his comfortable spot. He moaned.

“Cullen Stanton Rutherford, if you shave, I will hang you upside down naked by your toes in the garden and cover you with honey!”

She laid down again and Cullen settled back into position. He was quiet for a few moments while he lightly nuzzled her clit, then, “Are you going to lick it off of me? Because _if_ you are—”

He yelped with surprised pleasure as Ellana took hold of his cock and sucked enthusiastically. 

_Why hadn’t I thought of this before_?

~~~

 _One hour later_ …

“All right, up you go.” Cullen reached down and pulled Ellana to him so she was right-side up again.

“Afraid I might kick you in the head?” Ellana asked with a blissful smile.

Cullen chuckled softly. “Or I might put your eye out. And you have such lovely—” He reached around her stomach and began tickling her so that she wriggled against him, before drawing his hands up her torso and squeezing her breasts playfully. “Breasts—I mean _eyes_!”

Ellana giggled, rolled over to face him, reached up, and caressed his cheek. “I’m _so_ lucky.”

Cullen snorted. “You fell into the Fade, got thrown in jail, and had a mountain land on you. That’s only the half of it, really. You call that lucky?”

Tears pricked her eyes, making them glisten. “I’d do it all again to be with you. The only person that gets to see this side of you is _me_.”

Cullen growled low in his throat and kissed her. Then he whispered against her lips, “You’re the _only_ one I want to show it to.”

She sighed happily, tears trickling down the sides of her face. “I love you, Cullen.”

 _It never gets old. Hearing her say it still makes my heart jump in my chest_. He pressed his lips to her throat. “Ar lath ma, Ellana.”

~~~

The next morning, Ellana checked in with Sera. 

"I hear Verchiel was good pay for you, Inky, she said with a satisfied smirk as she leaned her door closed. "Time to go see if my friends came through too." She settled down on her pile of pillows and picked up a nearby mug. "Got a location for a stash. Hopefully something nice for my trouble. Well, _your_ trouble. Just let me know when you're ready to head out. Be sure to bring your empty pockets."

"So, who's putting up the reward for this, anyway?" Ellana asked.

Sera made a perplexed face. "Don't know. Sometimes it's 'pass the hat,' sometimes it's 'I lifted this from master's vault.' Doesn't matter, does it? Job done, time to get what we're owed."

Ellana shrugged. "I'm ready if you are."

Sarah gave her a big grin and jumped up and down excitedly. "Always, yeah? My _favorite_ part, this. Let's go see with friends can get us."

Soon afterwards, Sera and Ellana enlisted Dorian and The Iron Bull to join them on their little excursion to Crestwood. It was Ellana's idea to bring them along. Sera insisted that they didn't need backup, but Ellana had seen reports on Cullen's desk reporting that Red Templars were still lurking through the countryside there, though in lesser numbers than they had been previously.

~~~

Sera followed the map she'd been given to the drop location and discovered, much to her chagrin, that they weren't in town. "Wait, this is _weird_."

"What?" Ellana asked.

Sera dismounted her Basking Longma and tied it to a nearby fence post. "I was expecting a village or something. The people that leave me stuff don't trek out to places like this. Give me a city, and I'll give you a tour, but—surprise, surprise—I don't know stupid woods or ruins." A stirring in the brush caught her attention. "What's that?"

A young human male, a commoner by the looks of him, tentatively approached. "Don't hurt me!" he whimpered. "Harmond made me do it!"

Ellana rolled her eyes. "Right. Things have gone sour. As they do."

"No, no!" the young man cried, "It has to go right, or he'll kill me for the marching. It wasn't my fault!"

Sera raised her eyebrow at him. "You were the one with the rumor out of Verchiel? My friend?"

His eyes widened.

Behind them, Bull mumbled, "Oh _crap_."

"This will _not_ end well," murmured Dorian.

The young man took a step back. "You're her? You're the one he's waiting for!" He stumbled away and took off like a shot. "It's her! She's here! Red Jenny!"

Two arrows to the chest shot in quick succession ended him. 

Ellana looked at Sera out of the corner of her eye.

"Don't look at me," she hissed. "I'm good, but I'm not _that_ good"

A pack of mercenaries swarmed them. Like they do.

Bull grunted as he beheaded the first one to come into range. "Whoever hired these guys is a cheapskate."

"What makes you say that?" asked Ellana.

"He could have gotten the drop on us, ended it quickly and efficiently," Bull replied. "You can always hide the bodies if you're wrong."

Ellana was too busy throwing lightning at fools to do more than shoot Bull a horrified expression. 

Dorian spoke up instead. "Wanted to make sure he got his money's worth then." Then he set five of them on fire at once.

Ellana smirked as she phased though a mercenary, then spun, and slashed him with her Knight-Enchanter blade.

It was all over quite quickly. The lone benefactor called out to them from the further down the road. "Whoa-ho-ho! Hold on! I was not aware the inquisitor was _personally_ involved! This is a tragic misunderstanding! Let's all sheathe our swords, you walk out, and will conduct this like business!"

Ellana started to make her way towards the voice. The others followed after her, with Sera calling out, "Don't believe this pissbag. _He_ started it."

When she arrived at the crossroads, a young noble with prematurely gray hair stepped forward. "There. That wasn't so hard, was it? We identified the confusion, and we worked past it. I am Lord Pel Harmond." He raised an eyebrow at her. "I _do_ hope, Inquisitor, that you continue to respond to reason. After all, your choice of company is hardly virtuous."

Sera snarled, "Frigging user, you are. Another noble prick who punches down!"

"We're the same, you and I. Well, that is overstating it. You're _nothing_ like me. But we both need people."

He was insufferably smug. Ellana uncurled her fist and smiled at Lord Harmond, but it was not a nice smile, and he found himself taking a step back. "This ambush was _your_ doing," she asked, "or am I remembering that wrong?"

"Granted, it wasn't a _direct_ attack, but the first move was hers and, apparently, yours," he replied. "Honestly, previous to this very moment, I thought you'd also been tricked by these Red Jennies. Despite your 'foreign' nature, as Inquisitor, you are a social peer. I attacked them on behalf of us _both_."

"Arse-biscuit!" Sera growled.

Lord Harmond laughed condescendingly. "Quite. Inquisitor? Herald. I don't want to be your enemy. I am _barely_ invested in being hers. If you are willing to recognize an opportunity, we could be _exceptional_ partners."

Ellana crossed her arms over her chest. Behind her, Bull smirked. He knew what it meant. "You were up to something in Verchiel, Harmond. What _was_ it?"

"If you mean 'bettering my wealth and position,' I am _always_ seeking that," he replied. _So. Smug. Cullen would have punched him by now, but I don't have that luxury at the moment_.

"By getting people hurt!" Sera objected.

Harmond groaned. "Lady Chelle Morveau and I were jockeying for the land south of Verchiel. To claim land, you must populate it. My people encouraged hers to leave. Her people answered in kind. Et cetera. Really, it was all terribly standard displacement until your troops 'seemed' to change the balance. Well played."

Sera scowled at Ellana. "Stop talking to him. Really, just _stop_ it."

Ellana decided at that point that she was going to have a little chat with Sera when they arrived back at Skyhold regarding what she should do when grown-ups were talking. She continued unabated, "The servants you killed, they did nothing except talk about what was going on."

"You killed my contacts," Sera cried. "My _friends_."

Harmond shrugged. "That is _entirely_ true."

"Well," Sera gasped, "that should be _that_ , then!"

" _You_ were the one who empowered them," Harmond countered, "made their complaints a threat. Perhaps you should've warned them about talking to _you_."

Sera turned to Ellana again. "Tell this snot-splash no, already! Not saying again!"

There would also have to be something said about Sera undermining her authority by trying to boss her around in public. 

“Bull? _Wildcard_.”

~~~

_Two days earlier…_

“So. ‘Resolve’ for Blackwall, ‘Wildcard’ for Sera, ‘Pride’ for Solas, and ‘Ambition’ for Viv,” Bull said quietly in a secluded corner somewhere in Skyhold. “Nothing for Varric, Cassandra, or Cole?”

Ellana shook her head. “If something I do sets one of _them_ off, then whatever happens I have coming to me.” She smirked. “I noticed you didn’t ask about Dorian.”

“I don’t _have_ to,” Bull replied. “Dorian would sooner cut off his own hand than turn on you.” He smiled. “Do you have one for me?”

Ellana shook her head.

“I’m touched, Asaaranda,” Bull said with a smile. He reached down and tousled her hair affectionately. “You _should_ though. If I get possessed, feint on my blind side, then go low. Cullen says I leave myself open.”

~~~

_Present day, present time…_

“Bull? _Wildcard_.”

Without another word, The Iron Bull picked up Sera and carried her off.

“What is he…” Dorian began.

“I’ll explain later,” she murmured.

“Nicely done, Inquisitor!” Lord Harmond said, clapping his hands with approval. “Servants need to know their place.”

“Cut the bullshit,” Ellana snapped. “You listen to me and you listen well. If you want to walk out of this alive, you have _one_ choice. You work for me.”

“Under Lady Ambassador Montilyet? I would be honor—”

Ellana laughed. “Oh, no no. I said _work_. Your assets, your lands? I confiscate them in the name of the Inquisition. And thank you _so_ much for naming your accomplice so willingly! We’ll be paying Lady Morveau a visit as well—”

Lord Hammond turned pale. “You—you _can’t_ do that, you—”

Ellana leaned in, a wide grin spreading across her face. “Yes. I _can_. The Inquisition’s jurisdiction runs all the way across southern Thedas, and Verchiel belongs to _us_ now. You are going to be scrubbing pots in the kitchen and cleaning manure out of the stables for the next six months. Longer, if you don't behave. If you do not agree to my terms, all I have to do is say the word, and he lets her go. And she _will_ kill you.”

~~~

Ellana was reading the Chant of Light in her room when Sera let herself in. 

"Still angry," she said, hovering just over her shoulder.

Ellana said nothing.

"Angry face," Sera grunted as she sat down on the opposite end of Ellana's chaise. 

When Ellana still did not look up from her book, Sera snatched it and threw it across the room. "You had Bull carry me off like a tantruming child!"

"That's because you were _acting_ like a tantruming child," Ellana replied calmly.

"That arse was getting inside your head!" Sera protested. 

"You're not crediting me with much intelligence," Ellana snapped. "You know, Sera, you can say anything to me in private. But don't you _ever_ bark orders at me in public."

"Are you pulling _rank_ with me, Inquisitor?" Sera asked mockingly.

"Is this some sort of _game_ to you? These are people's _lives_ that we are taking responsibility for! Every mistake we make reflects on the Inquisition. It _weakens_ us." Ellana looked over to see that Sera was turned away from her. She grasped her by the chin and jerked it to face her. "I am responsible for more than you can _possibly_ fathom. _All_ of southern Thedas looks to us for guidance or aid. I am not going to throw away everything we've worked so hard for just so you can gamble with people's lives."

Sera shook her off and grimaced. "Sorry, what are you on about? Because that excuse for a person is a full vetted arsehole. You're sure as _piss_ not putting me next to him!"

"I'm more concerned that your friends didn't know what they were getting into. You risked their lives for this scheme." Ellana narrowed her eyes. "You're no better than they are. No. Wait. I take that back. You're _worse_. The nobles don't pretend to give a fuck about the people. At least _they're_ honest."

"Don't turn this around!" Sera objected. "Yes, they got hurt for talking, but what were they _supposed_ to do? They were _already_ being hurt. And who made it necessary to speak up? That noble arsehole, _that's_ who. And that was just the one we flushed out. You'd rather do _nothing_ than try to make this better?

Ellana groaned with exasperation. "How are _you_ making things better? What have you done for _anyone_?"

"I make sure the arseholes _pay_!" Sera shouted.

Ellana's eyes flashed. "You make sure the arseholes pay _you_."

"Well, maybe...but...but..." Sera looked down at her lap briefly then stood up with a defiant grin. "Know what? You go suck friggin' eggs. I take _back_. No, I don't change the world, but that's _hard_ , right? Even for Heralds, or you're lying!"

Ellana got to her feet, her cheeks flushed with rage. "You're _damned_ right it's hard. But that doesn't mean you go around making things worse for the people you purport to help. When push comes to shove, if I have to choose between making arseholes suffer and making people’s lives better, I’m going to choose the latter and I don’t think _you_ can say the same.” Ellana extended her finger in Sera's face. "You take back for _yourself_. Meanwhile, the 'little people' caught in the crossfire of your revenge fantasy go on with their lives, _if_ they're lucky, and continue to suffer as much as they had before. Whose lives have you made better that wasn’t the result of a direct order from me, but rather of your own volition? Think about that, and when you have an answer, _then_ we’ll talk.”


	18. Delicate Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Alistair of Ferelden and Empress Celene of Orlais hold their peace summit at Skyhold.

Vivienne strode through the grounds of Skyhold for the third time that morning. Flissa was right at her heels like a faithful mabari, taking notes and smoothing over some of her more brusque requests. Everything had to be _perfect_.

If one did not know Madame de Fer personally, one would not realize that she was effectively running around Skyhold in near-panic, fussing over everything, and doing her part to get the Inquisition’s home base prepared to host the Peace Summit. Normally, this would have been Josephine’s job, but the Ambassador was utterly consumed with drafting a proposal that would not result in assassins leaping out of the shadows and killing everyone present. To say that she was rattled would have been a gross understatement. But that wasn’t the only reason why Josephine was a nervous wreck.

To put things in perspective, relations had decidedly not improved between Ellana and Sera. In fact, they had become downright hostile, albeit rather one-sided, with Sera as the aggressor. Cullen’s tower had become their battleground, with Sera shooting arrows through the holes in the walls of his loft whenever Ellana was visiting him. She always missed, but she wanted them to know that she didn’t have to.

Cassandra and Varric were still avoiding each other. 

Sort of. 

One would linger around the corner from the other at different intervals to the complete ignorance of the observed party. Other members of the Inner Circle, some more subtly than others, gave frequent advice to both of them, urging a talk over wine at the Herald’s Rest. But Cassandra was stubborn, and Varric was showing himself to be quite the creature of habit himself: non-confrontational to a fault, and while keenly observant of most other people, in possession of a debilitating blind spot regarding not only himself, but those he cared about the most. He had taken to spending most of his free time hanging out with Hawke, who did not push him outside his comfort zone.

Hawke was, as usual, a potential political disaster onto herself. Though positively acquainted with the King of Ferelden, she was still a known harborer and accomplice of the fugitive who effectively kickstarted the Mage Rebellion (depending on who you asked). Her presence (and Anders’, it went almost without saying) at Skyhold was... _problematic_ , especially considering Celene’s rumored piousness. She could easily become a pawn in the proceedings, whether Josephine wished it or not.

Those were the most obvious problems, but they were not the ones Vivienne was concerned with. Her focus was on surface matters; aesthetics, not interpersonal communication. She was far too busy ordering workers about: installing railings for the stairways, overseeing the remaining repairs, ordering fittings for the entire Inner Circle, and was, at that moment, attempting to boss Cullen around. 

It was not going well. Madame de Fer was surprised to learn that the Commander could be _quite_ willful himself.

“Commander," she said, adopting an imperious tone, "you are in charge of what is now the most formidable army in Thedas. We can’t have you residing in a decrepit hovel! What will people think?”

“The condition of my personal quarters have nothing to do with my military leadership,” he answered tersely. 

Vivienne raised her eyebrow at him. “ _Solas’_ room is more genteel,” she asserted with a disapproving sneer.

“ _Solas_ isn’t the one bedding down with the Inquisitor, Madame de Fer,” Cullen said with a defiant smirk. “So, I must be doing _something_ right.”

Madame de Fer adopted her best withering stare and folded her arms across her chest. 

“Ah, I know that look. The censuring glare of the First Enchanter. When I was first sent to Kinloch Hold, I used to dread it.” He chuckled. “Too bad for you that I’m not a Templar anymore.” There was a pause. “There is _one_ thing you can change, though.”

A faint smile passed over Vivienne’s face.

~~~

Varric took a seat across from Ellana in the garden. She didn’t even look up from her book, as she was rather irritated with his continued insistence that the best way to deal with the Cassandra situation was to ignore it and hope it will just go away on its own. It was the way he handled most of his personal problems.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to talk to me either,” he grumbled in self pity. “But...I need your help.”

Ellana’s eyes flickered over the top of her tome briefly to let Varric know he could continue. 

“With the...foreign dignitaries about to descend on Skyhold, do you think it’s a good idea for Hawke to be here?” he asked.

Her pale eyebrows knitted together in concentration. “We can send her and Stroud ahead to the Western Approach, then I can catch up with them at the Ritual Tower so we can finally see what the Wardens are up to.”

“Whatever it is, it _can’t_ be good.” Varric said. “You may want to consider asking Curly to mobilize his men, so they can respond quickly should something go wrong.”

“Of course, if they have spies watching the roads, it may be difficult for us to act without tipping them off first,” Ellana asserted, putting her book on the table in front of her and taking her teacup in hand.

They fell silent for a while.

“... _Unless_ we send The Nightingale’s people through first,” posited Varric, raising his eyebrow. “They can fan out. Sweep the route. That _may_ cut down on the possibility of the Wardens being prematurely informed of our movements.”

Ellana’s eyes widened.

~~~

“So,” Ellana proposed, leaning over the War Table map, “I’m thinking Harding takes them out the back route as far out as the Western Approach border and then she goes on to the...Forbidden Oasis. Beyond that, Stroud should be able to handle keeping Hawke and himself hidden. He’s managed to elude the other Wardens thus far. Hopefully, the Oasis won’t take Lace away from Skyhold for too long.”

“Harding never takes more time than she needs to, Inquisitor,” asserted Cullen. “She doesn’t dawdle.”

“It’s not _that_ , Commander.” Ellana absentmindedly twirled a pen in her hand. “I would like her to undergo training. With you,” she turned to Leliana, “Sister Nightingale. As soon as possible.”

“Training for what?” asked Leliana.

“Your job,” answered Ellana with a grin. “I doubt you can act as our Spymaster when you’re busy being the new Divine.”

“You’re going to endorse _me_?” Leliana seemed surprised.

“Since its inception, this incarnation of the Inquisition has been a tool for change,” Ellana said with a smile. “Why would I stop now?” She turned to Josephine and smoothed her hair gently. “How are you holding up, Josie?”

“I...need...more...tea,” Josephine groaned. She plopped down in a familiar-looking chair and laid her head on the table.

“What you _need_ is a nap. You’re done everything you can. The King and the Empress don’t arrive until tomorrow. Get some rest.” Ellana took Josephine’s marker off the table. “No more work, I _mean_ it.” She paused. “Where did you get that chair?”

“What chair?” Josephine asked, eluding eye contact.

“The one that you’re sitting in,” Ellana replied.

“Oh, _that_ chair,” Josephine said. And nothing else.

Ellana narrowed her eyes. “...Josie?”

“Hmm?”

“The chair. Where did you get it? It looks... _familiar_.”

Josephine looked up. Her eyes passed from the Inquisitor to the faces of her fellow advisors before returning to gaze aimlessly at the War Table. “ _Maybe_ Archon Radonis sent them as a gift for aiding Tevinter in that little skirmish with the Venatori along the Nevarran border.”

“ _Them_?” Ellana asked.

“I meant _it_.”

“You _said_ them,” Cullen asserted.

“Did I?” asked Josephine.

“Josie…” Leliana began.

“Oh, all right,” groaned Josephine. “He sent a set of four custom, hand-made Tevinter chairs. It must have...slipped my mind with all this excitement around the Peace Talks.”

“ _I_ want a comfy chair,” Cullen said with a slight pout. He looked around the room at the smirks that marked the women’s faces. “ _What_? Do you have _any_ idea how much time I spend sleeping in my chair?” He mumbled, “My bottom hurts and all this time I could have been sitting in my own custom made Tevinter chair.”

Ellana cleared her throat to keep from laughing and addressed her advisors again. “Any _other_ business?”

Cullen handed her a letter. “That’s for Varric. Aveline caught Worthy, so that means my plate’s empty.”

Ellana smirked. Josephine grumbled from below. “Here we go.” Leliana crossed over and helped the Ambassador to her feet. 

“Make sure she goes to her room and _stays_ there,” Ellana called out as they walked towards the door. “I don’t care if you have to _tie_ her to the bed—”

“I _do_ have bard training, you know!” Josephine called out just before the door closed behind them.

Ellana shook her head. “I wonder what _that_ was all about.”

“I’m _sure_ I don’t know.” 

Ellana didn’t even have to look up. She could hear the mischievous smile in Cullen’s voice as he crossed the room. “See anything you want?” she asked innocently, still looking down at the War Table.

“Yes,” he said as he gripped her shoulders and pressed into her from behind.

She giggled. “In all seriousness, Cullen,” she said, gesturing at the table, “I don’t think there’s anything left for you to break.”

He sighed and nibbled the tip of her ear. “Gathering coin it is, then.” He snatched his marker out of Ellana’s hand and dropped it in place at the Ferelden-Orlesian border. 

Ellana turned around and leaned back against the table. “All right, Commander. You have my full and undivided attention.” Her arms slid up and around his neck just in time for him to dip forwards and kiss her.

~~~

“Pop your collar, Inquisitor,” Cassandra said with a weary chuckle as she looked up from a thick tome. “It wouldn’t do to present yourself to the King of Ferelden with all those love bites on your neck.”

Ellana’s hand instinctively went to the places where Cullen had laid a path of hard, insistent kisses from her ear to her chest. She rolled her eyes, popped her collar, and smiled. “I’m starting to think that he’s doing it on purpose.”

“Just figured that out _now_ , did you?” asked Cassandra. “Cullen might not like it when people talk, but he most _definitely_ wants them to know.”

The Inquisitor took the chair opposite the Seeker and laid her hand on top of the other woman’s hand. “We haven’t talked in a while. I guess we’ve both been busy—”

Cassandra got up suddenly, crossed to Ellana’s side and pulled her to her feet into a fierce embrace. “I’ve been waiting so long to get you alone. I—I didn’t think I could stand it much longer.” She took a ragged breath. “You—you’re the only one left I—I can—” She rested her chin against Ellana’s shoulder and burst into tears. “Maker, I wish you were taller,” she sobbed.

Ellana tried not to laugh and instead stroked Cassandra’s hair. “Ssh, it’s going to be all right.”

“How can I face Varric? I cannot possibly deny the reason I came to him. It was so obvious, I could have been wearing a sign around my neck that said ‘Take me, Varric Tethras.’” She lifted her head and looked Ellana in the face. “Do you _know_ what happened?”

Ellana nodded. “You don’t need to rehash it for my sake. Just...let it out.”

Cassandra shuddered again as fresh tears fell. “I—I’m so embarrassed…” She ground her forehead against the front of Ellana’s shoulder. “Andraste, I love him so. Of _all_ people. Varric…ugh. Oh Maker, _why_?”

“We’ll figure something out,” Ellana whispered. “He cares for you too, I know it.” 

Cassandra shook her head. “There’s someone else. Someone other than Leliana.”

~~~

Cullen strode through the doorway to Varric’s room. Varric turned in his chair and faced him. “Andraste’s flaming ass, don’t you Chantry people ever knock?”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Cullen asked, his eyes twinkling, “Chantry people don’t knock because deep down we hope we’ll catch you doing something _naughty_.”

Varric grunted. “Somehow I doubt the Seeker wanted to catch me in the act with Leliana.” He paused, and the faintest shadow of a smile ghosted across his face. “But her mind was _definitely_ on naughtiness.”

“She’s in love with you, Varric,” Cullen said plainly.

Varric rolled his eyes. “Well, yeah. I know that now.” He chuckled. “It’s funny. Dorian saw it coming weeks ago. Months? Ugh, can’t remember.” He sighed. “What I know about love could about fit into a thimble.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Cullen said, coming to Varric’s side and leaning over his desk to look at him. “I remember you in Kirkwall, the way you took care of your friends—”

“Even _you_ , Curly,” Varric added with a smirk.

“Yes.” Cullen paused thoughtfully. “Even me.” His eyes narrowed for a moment. “You know, I used to think it was Divine Providence that reunited Ellana and me. Now, I’m not so sure.”

Varric’s eyes danced with merriment. “The Maker works in mysterious ways, doesn’t He?”

“You corresponded with Ellana after she left Kirkwall.” Cullen sat on the corner of Varric’s desk. “That means you knew where she was all that time. I thought it odd that a Dalish clan would send a spy to the Conclave. How would they have even _known_ about it? Unless of course someone...tipped them off.”

Varric sighed. “I could have gotten her killed.”

“I guess that’s where the Divine Providence comes in,” replied Cullen.

“I guess so,” Varric concurred.

The two men were silent for a while. Finally, Cullen turned to Varric. “Why? Why did you do it? It had been seven years.”

Varric shrugged. “It was the right time. You left the Templars and were ready to commit to something bigger and better than hunting down apostates. Ellana was champing at the bit to step out from her Clan and make her way in the world." He looked up at Cullen seriously. "She never stopped thinking about you, Curly. Never stopped hoping she would see you again. So I just...nudged her in your direction. For what it’s worth, she didn’t know you would be there. It would have...ruined the surprise.”

Cullen smiled warmly. “And you said you don’t know much about love. You are the most loyal man I know, and you are always looking out for the best interests of others. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.” 

“Well, a lot of good it does me now,” Varric said with a sigh.

“Varric,” asked Cullen. “Do you love Cassandra?”

Varric looked Cullen in the eye. “It’s...complicated, Curly.”

~~~

Cullen took his place in the receiving line next to Ellana. King Alistair, not caring too much about impressing anybody, was arriving on time and was only a few minutes away, according to the messages Leliana’s scouts had sent by raven. It appeared that Empress Celene would, of course, be fashionably late. He took her hand and squeezed it affectionately, then tilted slightly in her direction so he could whisper in her ear. “Did you talk to Sera yet?”

Ellana’s eyes widened. “I thought _you_ were going to talk to her.”

Cullen took a deep breath and scanned the grounds of Skyhold. “Well, _shit_.”

When King Alistair and his entourage walked through the gates, the entire inner circle of the Inquisition (except for Sera) stood shoulder to shoulder and knelt. Alistair made a face. “Maker’s Breath, will you lot get up?” He pointed at Cullen. “Especially you. Don’t kneel to me, it’s weird.”

“Whatever you say, _Your Majesty_ ,” Cullen said in a mocking tone. He extended his hand to the King, who slapped it away, then wrapped his arm around the Commander’s neck and hugged him tightly.

“I was serious when I said you should come visit,” he said when he pulled away. “And of course, Inquisitor Lavellan is always welcome as well...though by the time you two can get away, she may well be calling herself Inquisitor Rutherford.” Alistair winked at them before turning to Leliana. He kissed her on both cheeks before she embraced him, stroking his hair. “Elissa sends her love,” he whispered. “I _know_ she does.”

Leliana smiled brightly, but tears trickled down her cheeks. “I miss her too, Ali. Zevran sends his regards—”

Alistair wiped the tears from Leliana’s cheeks and grinned. “That rascal. I can’t believe he’s still alive.”

“—and...Morrigan is here. With her son.”

Alistair turned pale. Leliana took one of his hands in both of hers. “You should talk to her. She’s _changed_...and you are her _only_ link with Elissa. Maker knows she loves her too.”

The King pondered his decision, then nodded. “It will probably be about three hours before Celene shows up. I’ll go see her right away.” 

He had begun to go through the formality of greeting the other members of the Inquisition when something glinted out of the corner of Cullen’s eye. He tapped Ellana on the wrist. 

She threw up a sizeable barrier in response, followed by Solas and Vivienne. 

While Alistair’s back was turned, Leliana twisted and faced the direction of the Herald’s Rest, stretched out her hand and…

...caught Sera’s trick arrow. Then she slipped it into her quiver with the King none the wiser. 

The mages dropped the barrier just before Alistair was about to cross it on the way to the garden. When he was out of earshot, Leliana whispered to Ellana, “You’d better have a talk with Red Jenny.”

Bull was already on his way.

As Ellana and Cullen followed in hot pursuit, they heard Vivienne admonish Dorian, "Nice work with the _nothing_ you cast back there."

"Unless you wanted the arrow set on fire," he snapped, "I suggest you be a little more grateful about my not contributing."

~~~

“Have you lost your _damn_ mind?” Bull said, as he slammed the door open. “He’s the fucking _King_ of Ferelden!”

“Gonna put me in the dungeon now, are you Bull? Some friend you are,” Sera sneered.

“Friends don’t let friends do stupid shit, Sera,” Bull answered firmly as Ellana and Cullen finally caught up. Cullen closed and locked the door behind him. 

“We have business to discuss,” he said, eyes flashing with anger.

It was at that moment that everyone else in the room discovered that the one person in the world they didn’t ever want to disappoint was Cullen. He backed Sera into a corner. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t hand you over to Leliana.”

“Why would you—” Sera gave Ellana a panicked look.

“Don’t! Do not _dare_ to look at her. You look at me.” Cullen gestured towards her eyes and back to his face with his fingers. “She gave you a chance, tried to explain things, and you threw it back in her face. It’s _my_ turn now.” He took a deep breath. “That man you took a shot at wasn’t just the King of Ferelden. He is my oldest friend. The...only one left who remembers who I was before—” He shut his eyes. “What was your point in doing this?”

“I didn’t have to miss—”

“You weren’t _going_ to miss,” Cullen growled. “Leliana caught your arrow just in time.”

“Well, I was banking on that,” Sera mumbled. “Do you really think I was trying to kill the bloody King of Ferelden? Maybe cause an...embarrassment for Inky, but not _kill_ him.” Her eyes flicked towards Ellana before refocusing on a still glowering Cullen. “If I’d been caught by the King, he’d demand I be questioned and imprisoned. Even attempted assassination is serious business. If Inky was considering execution, I could confront her about Lord Fancybreeches, force her to be merciful by her own rules.”

“ _That_ was your plan?” asked Cullen, crossing his arms over his chest..

“...yes.”

Cullen narrowed his eyes. “You were willing to spend the next six months or more cleaning the stables and emptying chamber pots in the infirmary—”

“Harmond doesn’t empty chamber pots!” Sera objected.

“No, but I’ve half a mind to make you do it on general principle,” snapped Cullen. “You were willing to risk a sentence of hard labor to prove what exactly? That Ellana should be _less_ merciful?”

Sera stared at Cullen.

Cullen stared at Sera. “Were you dropped on your head as a child? That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!” 

“You didn’t think I was merciful, you thought I was being soft.” Ellana interrupted. 

Cullen took a step back and let her continue to address their wayward rogue.

“I was being _smart_ , Sera. I was playing the long game. A person can’t change if they’re dead. And I didn’t have to kill Harmond in order to take Verchiel. This way, work gets done, he has a chance to redeem himself, and nobody else has to die.” She crossed in front of Cullen. “But you see, in your efforts to set me up as a hypocrite, you have presented a dilemma.”

“What?” Sera asked, her eyes widening. 

“It may be too dangerous to let you go and it may be too dangerous to let you stay,” she said softly.

Bull shifted his weight slightly, and Cullen rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, but Ellana lifted her hand to stay them. 

“Are—Andraste’s tits, are you going to _kill_ me?” Sera asked.

“If I let you go, what’s to stop you from sabotaging the Inquisition in a fit of pique?” Ellana asked. “We’re fighting this war on enough fronts as it is. I do not need nor do I want to add the Red Jennies to my list of enemies. But, if I let you stay, what’s to stop you from pulling a stunt like this again if I somehow manage to once more earn your disapproval?”

Sera stared at her and sat down, drawing her knees to her chest. “I want to stay,” she mumbled.

“What?” Ellana asked.

“I want to stay,” Sera reiterated more loudly. “The Inquisition is...the only family I have.”

Ellana bit her lip. “You want...to _stay_?”

Sera nodded.

Ellana turned around and motioned for the men to leave the room. After they did so, she shut the door behind them, then sat down next to Sera on the pile of pillows and drew her into a comforting embrace. 

Sera’s shoulders shuddered and she burst into tears. “I’m...sorry.” She wrapped her arms tightly around Ellana.

Ellana smiled, stroked her hair, and whispered, “Then learn from this and get better.”

~~~

Cullen pretended to read a book at his usual spot in the Skyhold garden as he saw Alistair approach. He knew his friend wasn’t coming to see him. This was more important, and a long time coming.

Alistair stopped suddenly when he saw Morrigan and the little boy playing in her orbit. A less socially awkward man would have remarked that Morrigan had hardly aged a day since he’d seen her last, and he would have noticed, if not said outright, that the boy looked very much like himself at that age, only with his mother’s dark hair. Unfortunately, Alistair wasn’t that man. Still, he couldn’t help but smile at the youth. 

“That’s him?” he whispered. “I thought he’d look, I don’t know, more _demonic_.” He cringed slightly, knowing that Elissa would have smacked him upside the head for saying such an insensitive thing about an innocent child. His child. The rest came tumbling out, as if he could no longer help himself. “Tentacles and fiery breath.”

Morrigan was surprisingly patient, much like one explaining something painfully obvious to a toddler. “He is a _normal_ boy, Alistair.”

“Uh-huh,” Alistair said. “And what does he know of...how he was _made_?”

Morrigan looked Alistair straight in the eye. “He knows his father was...a good man. I—I thought you deserved that much.”

Alistair’s demeanor softened. He chuckled quietly. “He’s changed you.”

“Don’t be _absurd_!” Morrigan snapped. But there was a smile playing on her lips. “Why are you _here_ , Alistair? Don’t tell me it’s the Peace Talks, I mean why are you here to see _me_?”

The King drew a deep breath. “He is my _son_. It just...wasn’t _real_ until now. Not until I could see him.”

“That is _precisely_ why I wanted you to stay away. He is _my_ son,” Morrigan asserted, her eyes flashing.

Alistair held his hands up placatingly. “I’m not looking to take him from you, Morrigan.” He sighed. “I...I just want to _know_ him. Please, I don't want to be like my father."

This seemed to give Morrigan pause. Anger turned to understanding turned to sympathy. But Kieran didn’t give her a choice. He came bounding up, a butterfly resting on his finger. “Look, mother! It likes me!” Morrigan ruffled his hair affectionately, but the boy soon noticed the man standing in front of him. “Father?”

Morrigan gasped. Alistair looked like he was about to faint. Cullen dropped his book.

Kieran smiled and approached Alistair, his hand extended. The butterfly took off and alighted on Alistair’s shoulder. Alistair knelt and held his arms open. Kieran looked up at his mother.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I could stop you...even if I wanted to.”

The boy ran to Alistair and was enveloped in his father’s arms. Kieran smiled as he rested his chin on Alistair’s shoulder. “You’re the king,” he said matter-of-factly.

Alistair looked puzzled. “Did your mother tell you that?”

The boy shook his head. “You... _shine_. And you also have _very_ old blood.”

“You’re talking about the Theirin bloodline,” Alistair guessed.

“Wrong again,” Kieran said with a smile. _He is much more good-natured with fools than his mother_ , thought Cullen. “You have _elven_ blood. In fact…” The boy’s eyes widened. “I’ll be right back!”

Kieran took off towards the main building. There was an awkward silence.

“Should we...go after him?” Alistair asked.

Morrigan raised an eyebrow at him.

“What? I don’t know how this parenting thing works!” he exclaimed. “I stayed away. I did what you wanted.”

Morrigan tentatively laid a hand on his arm. “And I _thank_ you,” she said gently. “He is... _everything_ to me, so much more than was originally intended."

Alistair raised an eyebrow at her. “But you’re not worried.”

“He is a very intelligent, well-mannered boy, Alistair. I doubt that he's up to any real trouble—"

They were interrupted by a commotion coming from the court exit to the garden. An Orlesian woman was saying, "Who _are_ you? Where are you taking me?"

It was Grand Enchanter Fiona, being gently dragged by the hand behind an enthusiastic Kieran. The boy wordlessly coaxed her the rest of the way to where Alistair and Morrigan were standing. When she saw Alistair, Fiona stopped abruptly, her cheeks flushed, and looked at the ground. "King Alistair."

Alistair narrowed his eyes. "Grand Enchanter."

Kieran looked back and forth between them, puzzled. "Why aren't you calling her 'mother'?"

~~~

Ellana found Cullen sitting on a newly installed bench against the wall and just outside the War Room. 

“ _There_ you are,” she said, joining him. 

He kissed her temple, then leaned his head on hers. “What a day,” he sighed.

“How long have you been waiting?” asked Ellana.

“They’ve been in there since eleven,” Cullen answered tiredly. “So far, they’ve had lunch and dinner sent with no sign of things winding down.”

“Who’s holding things up?” Ellana asked.

“Celene genuinely wants peace. For one thing, she has to repair the damage done during the Civil War, for another...she’d prefer Ferelden as an ally should relations break down with Tevinter.” He sighed. “Alistair...it’s not that he _wants_ war, he just—I don’t think he trusts her.”

Ellana shrugged. “Well, he shouldn’t trust Celene. But...you can always trust Celene to _be_ Celene.”

Cullen chuckled. “You have a point.” He looked over at the War Room door. “I wish I could go in there and knock some sense into him.”

Ellana snorted. “He’s a grown man.”

“Not really,” Cullen said with a sigh. “He’s so lost without Elissa.” He turned to her. “I used to think that it made him weak, to be so completely...undone by another person. I never wanted to give up control, not before, and especially not after Kinloch Hold.” He interlaced his fingers with hers. “Not until I saw you again.”

“And now?” Ellana asked.

“I’m not so much undone as I am...hopelessly entangled with you.” Cullen pulled her to him so that she was resting her head in his lap. “Do you mind waiting with me?”

“For how long?” she asked. 

He chuckled. “As long as it takes. He and I haven’t spoken in person since he visited Kirkwall a while back.”

Cullen rested one hand over Ellana’s and stroked her hair with the other hand. They were both so exhausted that they drifted off to sleep, and didn’t feel it when King Alistair took a seat next to Cullen and fell asleep himself.


	19. The Grey and The Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisition battles the corrupted Grey Wardens at Fort Adamant.

Things were worse than they had thought at the Ritual Tower because of course they were. As she walked in on a minor binding ritual led by a magister, Ellana wished she had just been hasty and paranoid and sent Cullen in to raze the place to the ground. 

_The Wardens are a lost cause..._

“Inquisitor Lavellan. What an unexpected pleasure. Lord Livius Erimond of Vyrantium at your service,” the Magister said before he bowed with a flourish.

“Oh _come on_!” cried Dorian.

Ellana, Blackwall, Stroud, Hawke, and Varric all turned to look at him.

“What? This is getting ridiculous!” Dorian pointed at Erimond. “You! Stop it. Stop being evil, you’re making the rest of us look bad!”

“Dorian Pavus,” Erimond said, narrowing his eyes. “I remember you from the Circle of Vyrantium. You were an insipid bookworm then, and I highly doubt you’ve changed enough for me to fear you now.”

Dorian looked at Ellana. “ _Please_ tell me we’re going to kill him.”

Stroud stepped forward. “You are _no_ Warden.”

Erimond rolled his eyes. “But _you_ are.” He sighed laboriously. “The one Clarel let slip. And you found the Inquisitor and came to stop me. Shall we see how that goes?”

“It looks like you’ve already done some of my work for me," Ellana said with a smirk.

"What, him? We simply needed his blood." He paused dramatically. "Oh, were you looking to garner sympathy? Maybe make the Wardens feel a bit of remorse?" He turned to the Wardens still alive. "Wardens! Hands up!"

The Warden Mages raised their hands.

"Hands down."

The Mages lowered their hands.

"Corypheus has taken their minds," said Stroud.

"This did this to themselves," said Erimond. "You see, the Calling had the wardens terrified. They looked _everywhere_ for help."

Stroud narrowed his eyes. "Even Tevinter."

"Yes, and since it was my master who put the calling into their little heads, we in the Venatori were prepared. I went to Clarel full of sympathy, and together, we came up with a plan: raise a demon army, march into the Deep Roads, and kill the Old Gods before they wake."

_That is the stupidest plan I've ever heard._ But, it lined up with what she remembered from her trip to the future with Dorian. "Ah, I was wondering when the demon army would show up." She would have yawned for effect, but thought that perhaps would have been a little over the top, what with the dead Wardens lying about.

For a moment, Erimond looked nervous. "You _knew_ about it did you?” But he quickly recovered. “Well then, _here_ you are. Sadly for the Wardens, the binding ritual I thought their Mages has a side effect. They are now my master's slaves. This was a test. Once the rest of the Wardens complete the ritual, the army will conquer Thedas."

Ellana laughed. "You think you can stand against _me_ with just demons and a Fade rift? Did Corypheus not mention what I did to the Breach?"

"He did, " Erimond replied. "He also noted what he did to you at Haven."

He cast the same spell Corypheus had when he attempted to excise the Anchor. While still painful, it didn't have the desired effect on her. Ellana humored him while he continued to blather, because knocking him on his arse after all that bragging would be all the sweeter.

"The Elder One showed me how to deal with you, in the event you were foolish enough to interfere again. That Mark you bear, the Anchor that lets you pass safely through the Veil? You stole that from my master. He's been forced to find other ways to access the Fade."

_Boo. Hoo._

Ellana stood, but Erimond wasn't looking. _Excellent._

He continued, oblivious to her recovery. "When I bring him your head, his gratitude will be—"

She snapped the summoning fade rift shut with a gesture, knocking the magister backwards with the sheer force of it.

_That_ frightened him. He scrambled to his feet. "Kill them!" Erimond cried as he fled.

The bewitched Wardens attacked, but were hopelessly outmatched and soon fell.

"So, _that_ went well," said Hawke.

Stroud sighed. "You were...correct. Through their ritual, the Warden Mages are slaves to Corypheus."

"And the Warden Warriors?" Hawke asked. Her expression darkened. "Oh, of course. It's not _real_ blood magic until someone gets sacrificed."

"The Mages killed their fellow Wardens," Ellana growled. " _Nothing_ can justify that."

"I don't _care_ about justification," Hawke snapped. "It's past time to take arms against the Wardens and stop this madness.

"The Wardens were wrong," said Stroud, "but they had their reasons."

Ellana and Hawke looked at Stroud like he was crazy. Hawke sneered. " _All_ Blood Mages do. Everyone has a story they tell themselves to justify bad decisions, and it _never_ matters. In the end, you are always alone in your actions."

Stroud turned to Ellana. "I believe I know where the Wardens are, Your Worship. Erimond fled in that direction." He pointed south. "There's an abandoned warden fortress that way. Adamant.”

"I guess they didn't want to summon a demon army out in public," Ellana quipped.

Hawke patted Ellana on the arm. "Stroud and I will scout out Adamant and confirm that the other Wardens are there. Then we'll meet you back at Skyhold."

~~~

“That’s... _bad_ ,” said Cullen as he sat down at his desk.

“Tell me about it,” Ellana said, scrubbing her face with her hands. “It’s not just bad, it’s _infuriating_. I must have spent my first three hours back here talking over my options with Josephine.”

“What _sort_ of options?” Cullen asked.

“As Inquisitor, I have the authority to banish them from all southern Thedas,” she answered. “I could also conscript them into my service, turn the tables on them, as it were.”

“Neither of which is a particularly _ideal_ choice,” Cullen posited. “If you banish them, what happens if there is a Blight? On the other hand, if you conscript them, who’s to say that they would be safe from Corypheus’ influence?”

“The Blight,” Ellana grumbled. “I _hate_ that the Wardens essentially have everyone by the balls because of that. They can and _will_ do any horrific, stupid shit that enters their minds, and they can get away with it. Because _Blight_. Well, Dread Wolf take the Blight and Dread Wolf take _them_.” She shook with rage.

Cullen got up. “Can I hold you?” he asked.

Ellana nodded and melted into his embrace. “It’s not right, Cullen. It’s not _just_.”

Cullen rested his chin on the top of her head and rubbed her back. “Well, you _could_ banish them, but still hold on to Blackwall. You only need _one_ Grey Warden to stop a Blight and you can _probably_ trust him not to go around murdering innocent people.”

“Blackwall... _troubles_ me,” Ellana admitted. “We have a very limited number of special snowflakes at Skyhold. Do you _really_ think he is one of them?”

Cullen was confused. “Special snowflake?”

“Dorian put it to me this way: _I_ can close and open fade rifts. _Solas_ can walk in dreams. _Cole_ is a spirit who can read minds. _Hawke_ is...well, Hawke. As Varric would say, people capable of weird shit.”

“Cassandra can light people’s blood on fire with her mind,” Cullen offered.

Ellana remembered Cassandra telling her about how she’d been made Tranquil, and then was given her abilities by communing with a Spirit of Faith. “I’ll allow it.”

Cullen was pensive for a moment. “Blackwall is a cunning warrior, but no. Nothing like that.”

“Yet he claims to not hear the Calling _all_ the other Wardens are hearing. What makes _him_ so unique? That, and…”

“What?” Cullen asked, pulling away slightly to look at her.

“Whenever I ask him about the Wardens, he’s...strangely _reticent_. Only talks about them in philosophical terms, never literal. If I didn’t know any better—”

“You’d say that he knows about as much about them as you do,” Cullen finished for her.

“Something’s not right,” she whispered. “I can _feel_ it.”

~~~

On her way to the War Room, Ellana caught a glimpse of Hawke and Varric sitting on the bench outside the door, having a chat. She ducked out of sight to listen.

"I tracked that Venatori mage back to Adamant Fortress," said Hawke. "They're looking at assault options now in the War Room."

Varric took her hand in his and squeezed it affectionately. "Thanks for coming."

Hawke beamed proudly. "You did well, Varric. The Inquisitor is...just who we need."

"Oh, it's been _great_. Murderous Wardens, Archdemon attacks, plenty of Blood Mages and crazy Templars." He sighed. " Just like _home_."

Hawke smiled warmly. "I know how much you _hated_ leaving Kirkwall."

"This is the ass end of Thedas!" Varric exclaimed. "You know they eat _snails_ here?" He shook his head. "Still, I think I need to finish this out. If it weren't for me and Bartrand, _none_ of this would have happened. So much for changing our lives."

Hawke wrapped her arm around Varric's shoulders. "That's what happens when you try to change things. Things _change_. You can't always control how."

~~~

"Adamant fortress has stood against the darkspawn since the time of the Second Blight," Leliana began.

Cullen smirked. "Fortunately for us, that means it was built before the age of modern siege equipment. A good trebuchet will do major damage to those ancient walls."

Ellana's eyes twinkled with mirth. "As long as they're properly calibrated, right, Commander?"

Leliana snorted.

Josephine chimed in. "Lady Seryl of Jader was pleased to lend the Inquisition her sappers. They've already delivered the trebuchets."

Out of the corner of her eye, Ellana saw a gleeful grin spread across Cullen’s face.

Leliana raised an eyebrow at Ellana. "That is the _good_ news."

"None of that accounts for the Wardens summoning a giant demon army," Ellana replied.

"That is the _bad_ news," confirmed Leliana.

"The Inquisition forces can breach the gate," asserted Cullen, "but if the Wardens already have their demons..."

Leliana replied, "I found records of Adamant's construction. There are choke points we can use to limit the field of battle."

"That's good," Cullen said. "We may not be able to defeat them outright, but, if we cut off reinforcements, we can carve you a path to Warden-Commander Clarel."

"So...our plan is to lay siege to a legendary fortress filled with demons," Ellana deadpanned.

Cullen shrugged and gave her the faintest hint of a smile. "It'll be hard fought, no way around it. But we'll get that gate open."

~~~

Cullen was in his element.

He’d personally seen to the calibration of all seven trebuchets, he had a cherry of a battering ram at his disposal, the greatest army in Thedas was under his command, and the love of his life was by his side. As the army breached the Warden fortress and the gate shattered to splinters, his men cheered in triumph. Ellana looked at him, squeezed his hand and walked inside, followed by Dorian, Cassandra, and Sera, to survey the field of battle.

There was fire and bodies everywhere, but he wasn’t too worried, as most of the bodies belonged to the Grey Wardens. He increased his stride to catch up to her.

"All right, Ellana. You have your way in. Best make use of it," Cullen barked. "We'll keep the main host of demons occupied for as long as we can."

"I'll be fine," Ellana turned and smiled at Cullen in spite of the chaos and destruction swirling around them. "Just keep the men as protected as possible!"

Cullen pulled her close and whispered into her ear. "I'll do what I _have_ to, to keep you safe." He let her go and continued for the benefit of the others. "Warden Stroud will guard your back. Hawke is with our soldiers on the battlements. She's assisting them until you arrive. "

There was a piercing scream over their heads as an Inquisition soldier was thrown to his death from the battlements by a demon. Cullen shook his head. "There's too much resistance on the walls. Our men on the ladders can't get a foothold! If you can clear out the enemies on the battlements, we'll cover your advance."

He hesitated for a moment, and looked as if he might kiss her goodbye, or for luck, or simply because he loved her, but his subordinates called him away. 

Ellana turned towards the burning battlefield that stretched before her. "Well," she said. "Let's go kick some demon arse."

Cassandra smirked. Sera cheered. 

Dorian was a little less enthusiastic. "Yay. Let's try not to die!"

They met up with Hawke on the battlements, and, damn it, if Cullen wasn't going to listen to her about protecting their soldiers, then she'd make sure the Champion of Kirkwall did. Sure enough, many of them did indeed survive thanks to the aid of Hawke's powerful magic. Finally, after clearing the siege points, there was only one thing left to do.

It was time to confront Warden-Commander Clarel.

"Maker willing, we'll be able to reason with her," Stroud grunted as they hurried towards the center of the fortress.

Ellana wasn't sure she wanted to reason with Clarel. _No, there is too much blood on her hands. Someone has to pay for all that death._ And after she was done with Clarel, Ellana vowed to herself that she would devise something appropriately horrific for Erimond as well.

"Commander Cullen is on his way, Inquisitor," one of the Inquisition soldiers called out from behind her. "Our forces are ready when you are."

By the time Ellana burst through the inner gates, the ritual was well underway. Clarel was cutting the throats of her own men and making an elaborate speech about how the Wardens were the true victims of an uncaring world.

"Stop them," Erimond cried. "We must complete the ritual!"

Cassandra made as if to charge the pompous mage straight off, but Ellana stayed her hand. "I'm sure you can't wait for Clarel to do that," she called out. "How else are you going to bind her?"

"Yes Inquisitor, I want to bind the Warden-Commander to a demon. _Everybody_ here already knows that! And yes, the ritual requires blood sacrifice. Hate me for that if you must, but do not hate the Wardens for doing their duty!"

"We make the sacrifices no one else will. Our warriors die proudly for a world that will _never_ thank them," added Clarel.

Ellana rolled her eyes so hard, she thought they were going to fall out of her head.

"And then your Tevinter ally binds the mages to Corypheus!" Stroud shouted.

"Corypheus?" Clarel asked, visibly confused. "But he's dead!"

"These people will say _anything_ to break your confidence, Clarel," snapped Erimond.

After a brief deliberation, Clarel made up her mind. "Bring it through," ordered the Warden-Commander.

The mages that stood outside the summoning circle dissipated into nothingness, absorbed by the Fade rift before them.

"Please," begged Hawke. "I have seen more than my share of blood magic. It is _never_ worth the cost."

"I trained _half_ of you myself," shouted Stroud. "Do not make me kill you to stop this madness!"

"Be ready with the ritual, Clarel," ordered Erimond. "This demon is truly worthy of your strength."

"Listen to me!” Ellana appealed to the Warriors. “I have no quarrel with the Wardens, I have spared those I could! I don't want to kill you but you're being used. And some of you _know_ it, don't you?"

"The mages who've done the ritual, they're not _right_ ," said one of the Warriors. "They were my friends, but now they're like puppets on a string!"

"You cannot let fear sway your mind, Warden Chernoff!" Clarel admonished.

"He's not afraid, _you_ are!" Hawke shouted. "You're afraid that you've ordered all these brave men and women to die for _nothing_!"

"I honor your bravery, my brothers and sisters, but this is _not_ the way!" Stroud added. "You have been tricked."

"Clarel, we have some so far!" Erimond urged. "You're the only one who can do this!"

"Perhaps we could test the truth of these charges," asserted Clarel. "To avoid more bloodshed."

"Or perhaps, I should bring in a more _reliable_ ally!" He tapped his staff on the ground and addressed Ellana with a sneer. "My master thought you might come here, Inquisitor! He sent me _this_ to welcome you!"

Swooping out of the sky and landing on the battlements, was Corypheus' dragon. As always, swooping was _bad_.

Dorian laughed. "You know what is the _best_ way to convince the Grey Wardens that you're on their side? Summon an archdemon to fight for you. _That_ will go well."

Clarel's eyes widened. Instinct took over, and while Erimond reveled in his moment of triumph, she shot him in the back with a bolt of lightning. 

He turned to look at the Warden-Commander, shuddering with fear. "Clarel...wait!" Erimond begged.

She ignored him, and attacked the dragon next, nimbly dodging the ensuing red lyrium-infused fire that followed.

"Help the Inquisitor!" Clarel ordered what remained of her men.

After defeating the demons the Wardens had summoned, Ellana took off after Clarel with the others following close behind her.

"What are you going to do if you capture Clarel, my love?" Dorian called out.

"When I catch her, I'm going to mount her fucking head on a _pike_."

"Wardens typically have diplomatic immunity, Inquisitor!" shouted Cassandra.

"Not anymore," Ellana growled.

Then, as Ellana rounded the last corner, she realized that Clarel hadn't been running _from_ her, she'd been running _after_ Erimond. 

"You! You’ve destroyed the Grey Wardens," she screamed, furiously blocking his fire attacks with her barrier spell. Then she knocked him to the ground. 

As a mage, Erimond was clearly outmatched, so he chose a new tactic. He mocked her. "You did that to yourself, you stupid bitch! All I did was dangle a little power before your eyes, and you couldn’t _wait_ to get your hands bloody!”

Clarel had nothing but rage to counter his argument with. She struck him with a bolt of lightning that sent him sliding away from her with considerable force. Finally having reached the limits of his capacity for pain, Erimond curled up into a ball and moaned. “You could have served a new god,” he said, rocking his body from side to side.

“I will _never_ serve the Blight!” Clarel snapped. 

Before she could get a coup-de grace on Erimond, the dragon struck, snatching her up in its mighty jaws and flying off to the battlements before tossing her away like a rag doll. 

The bite should have killed her. The fall should have killed her. But, true to rumor, Grey Wardens are remarkably hard to kill. Her body skidded to a stop, and though she was only able to crawl, she began to recite the Oath: “In War, Victory…” She rolled over onto her back. “In Peace, Vigilance.”

With the dragon right above her, Clarel sent off one last bolt of lightning, which stunned the dragon to the point that it crashed down hard onto the bridge everyone was on, causing it to start crumbling.

“Ellana!”

It was Cullen. On the other side of the bridge, Ellana could just make him out. “Run,” she urged the others. Ellana threw an open rift down at the dragon, hoping to slow down its recovery. Stroud stumbled, and she doubled back to help him up, the stones beneath them continuing to give way. 

One by one, the others fell into the open rift from above. Ellana just managed to make a desperate leap that left her scrabbling for purchase on Cullen’s side of the bridge. He rushed to her and grabbed her by the forearm with both hands.

“I’ve got you!” Cullen shouted. It was an awkward angle, as he was squatting with his knees to his chest. He was only able to access the strength in his arms to suspend her. 

“Cullen!” she cried.

“Darling, you’re going to have to help me out here,” he said.

She looked down again. The Fade rift was still open. _Dorian...Cassandra..._

Ellana loosened her grip on Cullen’s arm, but he held fast to her.

“What are you _doing_?” he asked. “Hold on!”

“They’re down there, Cullen,” she replied gently. “Dorian and Cassandra and Hawke. They’re in the Fade. I _have_ to help them.” She looked up into his eyes, and she could see him calculating the risks and losses, the consequences of holding her life above theirs. But she would not let his deeds stain his conscience. “Cullen, emma lath, you have to let me go,” she whispered tenderly.

“No!” Cullen began to tremble as tears stung his eyes. “Ellana, _please_! Don’t ask me to do this!”

She managed to pull the neckline of her silverite armor down slightly with her free hand, exposing the coin he’d given to her in Honnleath, which she was now wearing as a pendant on a silver chain. “I will come back. I’ve got luck on my side.”

Cullen maintained his grip and shook his head. “I can save you…” he whispered.

“You’ll have your chance,” she said. “I love you, Cullen.”

He never saw the lightning bolt coming.


	20. Fear Itself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellana falls into the Fade. Again. This time, she brings friends.

It took five soldiers to restrain Cullen from jumping into the rift after Ellana: four (Bull, Krem, Grim, and Stitches) to physically restrain him, and Harding to talk him down as best she could. 

"Commander, she's done this before," Lace said, gently laying her hand on Cullen's arm. "If anyone can get out of there alive, it's the Inquisitor."

"But we don't know that," he grunted, "do we?" He stopped struggling and hit his knees in despair. "She's already cheated death so many times. At some point, her luck has got to run out, right?"

Bull pulled Cullen to his feet and rested his hands on the Commander's shoulders. "I'm not worried," he said. "She's with Dorian and Cassandra. Those two would rather die than let her come to harm."

Cullen grimaced. "It goes both ways, Bull." He stared down at the rift below. “It’s why she let go.”

~~~

"If this is the afterlife," quipped Hawke as she gazed at their dreary surroundings, "The Chantry owes me an apology. This looks _nothing_ like the Maker's bosom!"

"No, the Inquisitor opened another rift and we fell through." Stroud recalled. "I believe we are in the Fade."

"The Fade looked much different the last time I was here," said Hawke.

"The first time I entered the Fade, it looked like a lovely castle filled with gold and silks. I met a marvelous desire demon as I recall. We chatted and ate grapes before he tried to possess me. Perhaps the difference is that we are here _physically_. This is no one's dream," observed Dorian.

Hawke turned to Ellana. "The stories say you walked out of the Fade at Haven. Was it like this?" she asked.

"I don't know," replied Ellana. "I _still_ can't remember what happened the last time I did this."

"Well, whatever happened at Haven, we can't assume we're safe now. That huge demon was right on the other side of that rift Erimond was using, and there could be others."

Sera was beside herself. "Shitballs. Fuck. Shit. Crap. Fade. Shit. Ass. Demons. Crap!"

"In our world, the rift the demons came through was nearby. In the main hall. Can we escape the same way?" Stroud asked.

Ellana shrugged. "It beats waiting around for demons to find us, right?" She looked ahead, and in the distance, saw a large concentration of Fade energy, which must have been the rift Clarel opened. "There," she said, pointing, "let's go."

Cassandra was awestruck. "Imagine it! To walk in the Fade and _survive_!"

Dorian was less hopeful. "There's no guarantee we're going to survive this."

Ellana turned to Dorian with a smirk. "Dorian, we traveled through time. No one’s ever done that before and lived. This...is _cake_.”

He gave her a sidelong glance and said nothing.

She clapped him on the shoulder. “Look on the bright side. Think of how jealous and bitter Solas will be when he finds out _you_ got to go into the Fade and not him!"

An insouciant smile crept onto her best friend's face.

" _That's_ more like it," she laughed, and kissed him on the cheek.

~~~

“Are you alright?” Bull asked. “You’ve probably got the best armor out of any of us, but that still had to smart.”

“No, I’m not alright,” answered Cullen, rubbing the back of his neck. “It doesn’t matter if you have magical resistance or not. Getting hit by a bolt of lightning _hurts_.”

“And what about the rest of you?” 

Bull’s voice was softer this time. Gentler. His meaning was not lost on Cullen.

“She knows how I feel about magic,” he answered.

“Yes.”

Cullen continued. “But she did it regardless. Because she had to. She knew...that no matter what, I would never let her go willingly.” He looked down at the sickly green glow of the rift. “It was the only course of action, because she was the only one who had the faintest hope of saving them.” He looked back up at Bull. “I don’t think I would have it any other way.”

~~~

"What is red lyrium doing in the the Fade?" Ellana asked as they passed by a large deposit of it coming out of the walls. 

“I won’t tell Varric if you won’t,” replied Cassandra. “He doesn’t need anything _else_ to feel guilty about.”

"Creepy here, yeah?" Sera murmured.

“Broken mirrors of gold, stairs that lead to nowhere...nope, completely normal,” quipped Hawke.

But they found a flight of stairs that did lead to somewhere, and when they reached the top, there before them stood Divine Justinia herself.

"By the Maker," breathed Stroud. "Could that be...?"

She smiled warmly. "I greet you, Warden. And you, Champion."

"Divine Justinia?" The Seeker was awestruck. "Most Holy?" 

"Cassandra," Justinia said warmly.

"Cassandra, you knew the Divine." Ellana turned to look at the Seeker. "Is this _really_ her?"

"I...I don't know," she stammered. "It is said the souls of the dead pass through the Fade and sometimes linger, but...we know the spirits lie. Be wary, Ellana."

"I fear the Divine is indeed dead," Stroud declared. "It is likely we face a spirit...or a demon."

"You think my survival impossible, yet here you stand alive in the Fade yourselves,” Justinia said stoically. “In truth, proving my existence either way would require time we do not have."

" _Really_? How hard is it to answer one question?" Hawke asked. "I'm a human, _and you are_...?"

"I am here to help you,” answered The Divine. “You do not remember what happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, Inquisitor."

Ellana raised her eyebrow. "The real Divine would have no way of knowing that I had been made Inquisitor."

“I know because I have examined memories like yours, stolen by the demon that serves Corypheus,” Justinia declared. “It is the Nightmare you forget upon waking. It feeds off memories of fear and darkness, growing fat upon the terror. The false Calling that terrified the wardens into making such grave mistakes? _It's_ work."

"I would gladly avenge the insult this Nightmare dealt my brethren," Warden Stroud asserted.

"You will have your chance, brave Warden," the Divine replied. "This place of darkness is its lair."

"The big demon Erimond was trying to bring though?" asked Ellana.

"Yes," replied Justinia.

Ellana’s eyebrows shot up. "It's _nearby_?"

"Yes," the Divine answered.

"Well,” Ellana grimaced, “shit."

"When you entered the Fade at Haven, the demon took a part of you. Before you do anything else, you must recover it. These are your memories, Inquisitor..."

~~~

**Ellana’s Lost Memories, Part One:**

_The Divine was helpless, suspended in midair by Grey Warden Mages as Corypheus began his ritual. "Now is the hour of our victory," declared the darkspawn magister._

_"Why are you doing this?" Justinia pleaded with the Wardens. "You, of all people?"_

_"Keep the sacrifice still," Corypheus ordered his thralls._

_"Someone," the Divine cried out, "Help me!"_

_He was holding the anchor out, seeking to absorb her life force, when I burst through the the door._

_"What's going on here?"_

_With the monster thus distracted, the Divine kicked the orb out of Corypheus' hand. It rolled across the floor to me. I picked it up, and it was like I had stuck my hand in the flames._

_The look of sheer terror and outrage on that creature's face just before he lunged for me..._

~~~

When Ellana came to, her companions were staring at her in shock.

"So, your mark did not come from Andraste," said Stroud. "It came from the orb Corypheus used in his ritual."

"Corypheus intended to rip open the Veil, use the Anchor to enter the Fade and throw open the doors of the Black City,” The Divine explained. “Not for the Old Gods, but for himself. When you disrupted his plan, the Orb bestowed the Anchor upon you instead."

"So this is what, an _accident_?” asked Ellana. She didn’t believe in the shems’ Maker, but deep down, a part of her, at least for the sake of her friends, had somehow hoped that Andraste had somehow had a hand in her new powers and miraculous escape. That there was some rhyme or reason as to why it had happened to her would have lent some piece of mind. “A random ricochet in the middle of a fight?"

"And if it was?" The Divine challenged her.

"If it was, then neither the Maker nor Andraste were in any way involved in this!” Ellana’s voice broke. _All this time of pretending to be Andraste’s chosen prophet...I’d started to believe it myself_. “I'm just..."

"If you believe in the Maker, then you believe that he made this world and everything in it, including your accident,” Justinia pointed out. “And if you do not, then, nothing has changed. You cannot escape the lair of the Nightmare until you regain all that It took from you. You have recovered some of yourself, but now It knows you are here. You must make haste. I will prepare the way ahead."

After The Divine took her leave, Stroud spoke. "Something troubles you, Hawke."

"I wondered if you might be concerned about the Wardens holding the Divine in that vision,” she answered. “Their actions led to her death."

"I assumed he had taken their minds, as you have seen him do before,” Stroud disclosed. “Come, we can argue after we escape this dark place."

Hawke raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I _intend_ to," she said archly.

Cassandra, for her part, was still mystified. "Could that have _truly_ been the Most Holy? 

"I have no idea. If it's a spirit, it's not acting like one,” declared Dorian. “No demon would have been so helpful without asking something in return."

"So, she's not real, which means the Nightmare's fake too, right?” Sera asked hopefully. “ _Right_?"

"A demon that steals fears from the minds of men…” Stroud shook his head and clenched his fist. “After what it did to my fellow Wardens, I pray we find some way to strike it down."

~~~

“They’re _your_ friends, too, Cullen,” Bull observed.

The Commander shook his head. “Other than Alistair, they’re… _huh_.” He laughed softly. “Maker, I really _have_ made a lot of friends since I joined the Inquisition. After ten years of not really having any, now I have them in abundance.” He blinked away tears, then smiled sadly. “Many of them—most of them, really...due to _her_.”

“You think your friends would... _not_...be your friends if not for her?” asked Harding tentatively.

He got to his feet and paced the way he always did when he was anxious.“She attracted the right people. Like a beacon. A prophet. A—”

“A _Herald_?” Bull asked, raising his eyebrow.

Cullen’s mouth twitched. “I suppose so.”

Bull smiled. “I for one am certainly glad that she brought Dorian on board.” He looked down at the crackling rift below and shivered slightly.

~~~

The disappearances started to happen after they’d met up with the Divine in the Fade. One of them would get distracted by something they’d seen that held meaning for only them, and off they’d go in pursuit of it like a child seeking after a colorful toy. The others would then have to be on their guard as they searched for the missing one lest they fall into Nightmare’s trap themselves...

**Fears of the Dreamers: Temptation**

"Perhaps I should be afraid," Nightmare taunted, "facing the most powerful members of the Inquisition…Greetings, Dorian. It is Dorian, isn't it? For a moment I almost mistook you for your father."

The Tevinter scoffed. "Rather uncalled for."

Dorian caught sight of the decadent Fade castle from his Harrowing. “There are more subtle, quiet ways to fall,” said the desire demon, swirling the glass of fine whisky in his hand. “Do you really think that all Harrowing abominations are caught by the Templars?” He ran his finger around the rim of the glass, dipped it into the whisky and brought it to his lips. “I can help you, Dorian. I know what you really want, but they’ll never accept you here. If you...let me in, I can take over for all the uncomfortable parts, like marital duties and such while you go on your merry way boffing your apprentices to your hearts delight.”

Dorian blinked. “That isn’t how the conversation went.”

Or that was what he meant to say, but he soon realized that he was but an observer; a prisoner in his own body. “A tempting offer,” he drawled.

“You don’t have to keep swimming upstream. Let go, and realize your true potential. You could be Archon!”

He blinked again and saw himself in splendor on the Imperial throne, dead-eyed consort by his side. But it wasn’t himself, not really. Of course the demon hadn’t kept his word, and now a full-fledged abomination was ruling Tevinter, in full collusion with Corypheus.

“Think of all the good you could do!” the demons words echoed. 

The Inquisitor looked around curiously, shrugged, then made her way up the marble steps and bowed politely.

Archon Dorian’s lips curled into a cold smile. “Inquisitor Lavellan. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

_No. No, my voice sounds all wrong._

Inquisitor Lavellan stared at him. “Dorian, it’s me.”

“Rather informal for addressing the Archon, don’t you think?” Dorian snapped. “Learn some respect or I’ll cut your tongue out.”

“Dorian…” The Inquisitor’s voice lowered to a growl as she pounced, then dragged him from his throne and shook him by the shoulders. “Snap out of it.”

“There is no Dorian here—” he began, but he was interrupted by The Inquisitor’s fierce embrace. 

Dorian gasped like he was coming up for air. His eyes flew open. 

Ellana was smirking at him. “ _Archon_ Dorian?”

“Don’t tell Bull,” he said with a sheepish grin.

~~~

“What about the Seeker, Commander?” Harding asked. “You knew her before you met The Inquisitor, right?”

Cullen chuckled. “Actually, I didn’t. But I may as well have, since Ellana and I didn’t really have a chance to—no, that’s not _quite_ true—we didn’t take the opportunity to remain acquainted the first time we...found...each other.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Sorry, still trying to relax enough to be able to think straight.” Cullen took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Cassandra and I didn’t develop an actual friendship until after Ellana came along, but we always had a certain...affinity. We likely would have become confidantes eventually.” He opened his eyes and gave Harding a tired smile. “Does that answer your question?”

“It does,” confirmed Lace. “If you don’t mind my saying, sir, I don’t think you give yourself enough credit…”

~~~

Dorian had never explained exactly how he had become separated from the others. Even if he had, there was no way they could have predicted wily Nightmare’s next victim, or the lure he’d use to draw them away. Cassandra caught sight of the deliciously shady gardens of the Grand Cathedral in Val Royeaux. Her nerves raw and fatigue beginning to set in, she thought there would be no harm in sitting down to rest for just a little while...

**Fears of the Dreamers: Helplessness**

"Your Inquisitor is a fraud, Cassandra,” Nightmare's voice echoed. “Yet more evidence that your Maker is a fraud, and your faith has been for nought."

"Die in the Void, demon!"

When Cassandra was chosen as the next Divine, Chantry historians had been excited. She was seen as the ideal choice, not too radical, and with the right pedigree. But as Divine, and by her own personal code, she found she was both empowered and bound.

Mostly bound, or at least this is how her friend Ellana saw it.

“Auntie!” the curly-haired tot squealed and ran to the Divine with arms open wide. 

“Marissa!” The Divine exclaimed. She checked to see that no one else was looking, then dropped to a crouch and took the little girl into her arms. “You’re getting _so_ big!”

“She’s going to be tall,” said Ellana as she sat down in the garden nearby. She was heavily pregnant with her fourth child now.

“Like her father,” Cassandra sighed as Marissa clambered onto her back. “How _is_ Cullen?”

Ellana smiled. “He’s on his—”

“Sorry I’m late!” Cullen interrupted as he entered the garden. He had his hands behind his back.

“Daddy, do you have a present for me?” asked Marissa.

“I certainly do, Butterfly,” Cullen said. “And one for your Auntie as well.”

Marissa began to climb down. “Ooh! Can I give her the present?”

Cullen smiled and rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

“Yay!” The little girl had her mother’s boundless enthusiasm. She ran to her father and planted a kiss on his cheek before absconding with his gifts. A large lollipop for herself and a parcel for Cassandra.

Marissa dropped the parcel in Cassandra’s lap, then ran off into the garden with her lollipop to look for one of the cats that lived there. Cassandra watched her go with a smile, but her arms ached for a child of her own.

“What’s in the package, Cullen?” Cassandra said as she took a teacup from a Chantry sister and sipped it.

“It’s a surprise,” Cullen said as he slid next to his wife and kissed her tenderly on her eyelids. He whispered to Ellana, “How’s the baby?”

As Cassandra set about opening the package, she heard Ellana answer, “Well, now I’m _sure_ it’s a boy.”

“We could always ask Cole,” said Cullen.

“That’s cheating!” Ellana laughed.

“So we know how to decorate the nursery!” Cullen insisted.

When Cassandra had finished unwrapping her present, she held in her hands a lavishly decorated book. She opened it and read the inscription:

_“To Cassandra,_

_all the love in my heart,_

_Varric.”_

“Cullen,” Cassandra said archly, “did you know about this?” She held up the book, with the pages open to Varric’s inscription. 

“I don’t know _what_ you’re talking about.” _Cullen was always a terrible liar._

“I can’t leave this lying around! There will be a scandal!” she scolded.

“Put it in your vault, Cassandra,” suggested Ellana. “It’s the last volume of Swords & Shields. You _know_ you can’t wait to read it.”

Cassandra caressed the tome tenderly. “How _is_ Varric?”

“Up to his usual tricks,” answered Cullen. “He’s practically Viscount of Kirkwall now.”

“You _know_ ,” posited Ellana, “being Divine, you could nudge the Council to change the rules and allow non-humans to become Viscount. Varric could do a _lot_ of good.”

“He already has,” Cullen added. “But Ellana’s right. He could do more if he had the official title.”

“I—I can’t. I’m already seen as being too lenient on the dwarves as it is,” she stammered.

The friends fell silent and together they watched Marissa play in the garden. Despite the company, Cassandra felt cold and alone. She shivered and sipped her tea, but it was no use.

Ellana got up, Cullen’s cloak in her hands. “You’re shaking like a leaf,” she said. Her voice seemed to be coming from far away.

The cloak was draped around Cassandra’s shoulders. “She’s got the cold sweats,” said another voice. It sounded familiar. _Dorian_?

“Should we rub her footsies?” asked another. _What is Sera doing here_?

“Here? No!” hissed Ellana. “Cassandra, we’re here. It’s alright.”

“The...book,” Cassandra mumbled.

“Get her pack,” snapped Dorian.

“I’m not your servant,” groused Sera.

Something hefty and rectangular was placed in her hands. “Read the book, Cassandra.”

Cassandra shook her head feverishly. “No, no, I can’t. What will people think?”

“Who gives a rat’s arse what anyone thinks?” Ellana answered. “Read your damned smut and the Void take anyone who tries to tell you that you can’t!”

Cassandra awoke to find Ellana, Dorian, and Sera staring at her. 

Sera smiled and ruffled Cassandra’s hair affectionately. “There’s our badass bitch!”

~~~

“Sera’s got to be scared shitless,” Bull mumbled. 

“What was that?” Cullen asked as he approached. He had just been issuing orders to Captain Rylen on how the Inquisition forces and the Grey Warden warriors could complement each other whilst battling the demons that continued to pour out of the rift at a steady rate. He called after Rylen’s retreating form. “Mages from range only, Rylen! Then our Templars in between, then all the rest.”

“I _said_ Sera’s got to be scared shitless,” Bull repeated more loudly.

Cullen nodded, surveying the battle scene. “I don’t think Ellana would have taken her had she known so much magic would be involved. Solas told me that Sera’s like a woman with perfect eyesight wandering around with her eyes closed and refusing to open them.” 

Bull grunted. “All I know is that if I had gone with her, and Cole had gone with her, as well as Sera, it would have been a fear feedback of _doom_. Poor Asaaranda would be spending most of her time smacking sense into all of us. Then you would have an _actual_ reason to be troubled instead of the pointless fretting you’re doing now.”

“Pointless...fretting?” asked Cullen.

“She and Dorian traveled through time and came back safe and sound—”

“Ellana was traumatized.”

“ _Alive_ , then. “Bull clarified. “You have nothing to worry a—”

“Commander, Captain Rylen has an update about the demon Clarel was trying to bring through,” Harding reported.

“What did he discover, Lieutenant?”

Harding took a deep breath. “It’s a Fear demon, Ser. And not just any Fear demon. His name is Nightmare. The Wardens say he’s huge and _extremely_ powerful.”

Bull and Cullen stared at each other. “Well,” said Bull, “shit.”

Cullen closed his eyes tightly. “Lieutenant, see if you can find Cole in the camp and bring him to me as soon as you can.”

“Yes, Ser!”

~~~

"Sera, Sera, Sera. If you shoot an arrow at me, I'll know where you are..."

"Out of my head, bitch-balls!"

**Fears of the Dreamers: The Nothing**

It should have been obvious. A bakery? In the Fade? But ever since an eventful girls night out with Ellana, Lace, and Dagna, Sera’s taste for cookies had been reclaimed, and behind the gleaming glass display case were a hundred varieties of the sweet delights. There was no one minding the shop. It would only take a moment…

With no guards and no obstacles in her path, Sera crept inside the bakery and picked the lock of the display case. Like a child, she sat on the ground and stuffed her face until she passed out.

“What color is the sky, Sera?” Solas’ disembodied voice woke her from her gorged stupor. 

It was taking longer than usual for Sera to refocus her eyes. “Hang on…”

“It is an earnest question,” he continued calmly. “What color is the sky when you look at it?”

It was at that point that Sera realized why it was so difficult to see.

She’d been set amongst the stars; a constellation, Eluvia to be specific, the seated woman with her head in the clouds. For all intents and purposes, she _was_ the sky. How could the sky answer such a question when it is both everywhere and nowhere, everything and nothing, intangible, yet touching all?

“In Ancient Tevinter, this constellation was named for Razikale, the Old God of mystery,” intoned Dorian. “I’ve often wondered about the correspondences between the Old Gods of Tevinter and the Elven Gods. That would make Razikale’s counterpart Dirthamen, God of secrets and knowledge.”

“Makes you wonder how far it goes, doesn’t it?” asked Cullen.

Sera could not speak, could not move of her own volition, nor reach out but she could see and hear and feel everything: the crackle of Ellana’s anchor, the steady beat of Cullen’s heart, the whispering silks of Dorian’s robes, the way Josephine’s eye color changes when she’s excited, the scratching of Varric’s pen…

She saw into the past. The face of Cullen’s demon, the labors of King Calenhad, the Tevinters building Kinloch Hold...she felt herself melt from the sky into the water and sink beneath the cool waves of Lake Calenhad, floating in place; unravelling, un-becoming…

The first voice she heard was Ellana’s. “Creators! She’s face down!” she felt herself being lifted from the water. 

“How long do you think she was under?” asked Dorian.

“I don’t _know_!” came Ellana’s panicked reply.

“I know how to deal with this,” said Cassandra. “Stand back.”

Sera was struck hard between her shoulder blades, and water came rushing out of her.

She gasped and looked around. “That's it, right?”

Ellana gave her a strange look, but nodded in the affirmative.

Sera laughed a little maniacally. “Not so bad. You're not so bad!” She made an obscene gesture in the direction of the Black City.

“Surely these are but the Nightmare's minions!” exclaimed Cassandra.

“Not helping!” said Ellana.

“I _hate_ this place!” groaned Sera.

~~~

“All I’m saying is that I think she’s got more than enough cool-headed people with her to handle a panicky Sera,” Bull posited. “Dorian. Cass. Hawke—”

Cullen snorted. “And nothing _ever_ went horribly wrong when Hawke got involved.”

Bull looked the Commander curiously. “Not everyone can defeat an Arishok in single combat.”

“I never doubted her capacity for destruction,” Cullen answered.

Harding approached them. “Do you think inviting her to the Inquisition was a mistake, Ser?”

Cullen stared down at the rift and shook his head. “Hawke may have terrible luck on her own, but she’s very good at turning the tide for her allies.”

“You knew her in Kirkwall,” Harding asked, “Right?”

Cullen smiled. “She was the most consistent presence in my life there. We probably talked at least once a week for about,” he rolled his eyes as he tried to calculate the time, “six or seven years.”

“You must have been close,” Harding replied.

“Yes and no,” Cullen said with a smirk. “She has an amazing talent for getting under people’s skin, but she was elusive the other way around. I can’t say that I blame her. She lost her father just before the Blight, her sister on the way to Kirkwall, and then Carver joined the Templars. With her being an apostate...that must have hurt, felt like a rejection.”

“Sibling rivalry?” Bull asked. “Glad we didn’t have _that_ under the Qun.”

“They didn’t speak often, but Carver was always loyal. And no one dared to speak ill of his sister.” He sighed. “Then their mother was killed. Murdered, by a blood mage. Hawke might be the only person I know, in their right mind, that hates blood magic more than I do. She and Dorian would get along splendidly, I think.” He stopped suddenly and turned to Harding. “Didn’t I ask you to bring Cole here?”

Harding flushed. “He’s on his way. It’s...very difficult for him to be here, Ser.”

“So many of them...twisted against their purpose…” Cole looked up and saw the others. “Commander Cullen, please...don’t let them take me.”

“What? The demons?” asked Cullen.

“No,” answered Cole. “The Warden Mages.”

Cullen stared at the boy for a moment, then softened. “Of course, Cole. Nothing will hurt you as long as you’re with me. I swear it.” He wrapped his cloak around the boy’s shuddering form and patted him on the back.

“Thank you, Commander Cullen,” Cole said softly.

“You can just call me Cullen, you know.” Cullen chuckled. “I think you know enough about me by now that you’ve earned that right.”

Cole smiled. “Cullen,” he said, testing the feel of the name on his tongue. “You need me for something,” he reminded him.

“Do you know anything about Nightmare?” Cullen asked, gesturing at the rift.

Cole looked down. “He is like me. Or...was...or I could have been him. He never saw the fall coming. Thought he was helping by making them forget.”

“Making _who_ forget?” Bull asked.

“ _Everyone_ ,” Cole answered. “When you wake up, and you know you had a terrible dream, but you can’t remember what it is...that’s _him_. 

“Almost _all_ my dreams are nightmares,” Cullen replied. “I don’t see how forgetting them would be a bad thing.”

“He developed a taste for it,” said Cole. “He grows fat on fear. It makes him powerful. And as the Commander of Corypheus’ demon army...that’s... _bad_.” He shuddered as he mumbled, “Did you think you mattered, Hawke?”

~~~

"Did you think you mattered, Hawke? Did you think _anything_ you did mattered? You couldn't even save your city. How could you hope to strike down a god? Anders is going to die, just like your family, and everyone you ever cared about."

"Well, _that's_ going to grow tiresome quickly," Hawke snapped.

"What _are_ those things?" Cassandra bellowed.

"Smaller fears, I would wager,” Dorian theorized. “Scavenging whatever the Nightmare leaves behind."

"And of course, they look like giant spiders,” said Hawke with a grimace.

"Don't see no spiders. I'd have taken bloody spiders!" Sera screamed as she let loose a hail of arrows. “Die, clowns, die!” 

"Ah, of course,” Dorian said. “The demons look different to each of us, personalized little terrors."

"So...it's in my head?” asked Sera. “Knowing is not helping!"

“Out of curiosity, what do _you_ see, Dorian?” Ellana asked.

“Every bad hairstyle I’ve ever had,” he answered. “You?”

She shrugged. “Nothing. I’m just pointing and shooting in the direction everyone else is attacking.”

“Oh _shut_ up!” exclaimed Cassandra. “All I can see are maggots everywhere.”

“It’s _true_!” Ellana insisted.

“You’re insufferable,” teased Dorian. We all _hate_ you.”

“Aww…”

~~~

“Those early days in Haven…” Harding began, looking up at the stars, “I think you had just as much of a positive effect on the Inquisitor as she had on you. It is not too much embellishment to say that you were like the sun that made her flowers bloom into life.”

Cullen chuckled, “You really _have_ been spending a lot of time with Leliana!”

Cole whispered, “I will come back. I’ve got luck on my side.” He looked over at Cullen, “Flickering green getting closer and closer. I shut my eyes and think of his golden ones, their warmth, the way he looks at me, the way he looked...I believe in him, I need him to believe in me. I grasp the coin tight as the Fade envelops me—”

“I don’t know why I gave it to her in the first place.” Cullen said, shaking his head. “I have shitty luck.”

“What are you talking about?” Bull asked, slapping the Commander on the back. “You have _amazing_ luck!”

Cullen looked at the Qunari like he’d lost his mind. Bull sighed and rolled his eye. “You have survived _everything_ your life could throw at you: Kinloch, Kirkwall, Haven. You’ve got a handle on your lyrium addiction—”

“Thanks to her and Cassandra—”

“Shut up, I’m not finished. You have an awesome job that you are awesome at. Your men look up to you, your co-workers like you, you have good friends, you’re healthy, educated, and your body does what you tell it.” He wrapped his arm around Cullen’s shoulders and pointed down at the rift. “She _loves_ you. And _you_ love her. You love her _so_ much, and you are so satisfied with her, that you couldn’t give a rat’s ass about all the people throwing themselves at you during the Imperial Ball. If that’s not amazing luck, I don’t know what is.”

~~~

"The Nightmare is closer now. It knows you seek escape. With each moment it grows stronger...."

**Ellana’s Lost Memories, Part Two:**

_I saw Divine Justinia and myself scaling a steep staircase towards the mouth of the rift, pursued by Fearlings._

_"This is the Breach back in Haven. That's how we...how I escaped..."_

_I reached the top after the Divine, who extended her hand to me and pulled me up to safety. She looked over my shoulder. "The demons!"_

_I grabbed Justina by the arm. "Keep running!"_

_I surged ahead, but the Divine stumbled. When she cried out, I doubled back for her, and grabbed her hand._

_But the Fearlings had caught up to us. Rather than dooming us both, the Divine smiled at me. "Go!"_

_And as she let go of my hand, she was torn backwards by demons. I turned and leapt through the Breach..._

~~~

Her memory fully restored, Ellana looked at Justinia sadly. "It was _you_."

The Divine turned and looked at Ellana.

She continued, "They thought it was Andraste sending me from the Fade, but it was the Divine behind me. And then you—she died."

She nodded sadly. "Yes."

"So this creature is simply a spirit," said Stroud.

"You don't say!" Hawke snapped,

"I am sorry if I disappoint you," The Divine said with a sigh.

Hawke's expression changed. She looked...ashamed.

Then the Divine changed form, becoming like a fire that did not burn, and floated above their heads. Ellana asked, "Are you...her? Did you linger here to help me instead of passing on?"

"If that is the story you wish to tell, it is not a bad one," Justinia answered.

"What we do know is that the mortal Divine perished at the temple, thanks to the Grey Wardens," said Hawke.

Stroud bristled. “As I said, the Wardens responsible for that crime were under the control of Corypheus. We can discuss this when we return to Adamant.”

"Unless the Wardens and their demon army destroyed the Inquisition while we were gone,” Hawke snapped.

"How _dare_ you judge us!” Stroud snarled, “You tore Kirkwall apart and started the Mage Rebellion!”

"To protect innocent Mages, not madmen drunk on blood magic!” Hawke countered. “But you'd ignore that, because you can't imagine a world without the Wardens...even if _that's_ what we need!”

"Sweet Maker, could both of you please shut up? We can argue once we escape from the giant fear demon!" Ellana scolded.

“I suppose we should follow the Divine,” said Dorian. “Whatever she is, she is our way out of here.”

“The Nightmare has found us…” said The Divine.

“Warden Stroud,” Nightmare oozed, “How must it feel to devote your whole life to the Wardens, only to watch them fall? Or worse, to know that you were responsible for their destruction? When the next Blight comes, will they curse your name?”

Stroud huffed, “With the Maker's blessing, we will end this wretched beast.”

~~~

"Ah, we have a visitor. Some silly little girl comes to steal the fear I kindly lifted from her shoulders. You should have thanked me and left your fear where it lay, forgotten. You think that pain will make you stronger? What fool filled your mind with such drivel? The only one who grows stronger from your fears is me. But you are a guest here in my home, so by all means, let me give you what you so desperately desire..."

 

Nightmare was both clever and cautious when he lured Ellana away from the others. To use Cullen against her right away would have been too obvious. He would have to come at her sideways.

**Fears of the Dreamers: Fear Itself**

Ellana fell...upwards, and...started awake, finding herself in her bed at Skyhold. Had it all been a dream?

Leliana was standing next to the bed, her expression grave. “Ellana, I’m sorry to wake you, but I have...terrible news.”

The Nightingale took the Inquisitor’s hand in hers. Ellana was surprised by how cold it was. and instinctively jerked her hand away. Leliana continued, undaunted. “Your clan...they were all massacred in the night by the Duke of Wycome.”

Ellana clutched her chest. “How did your agents not know ahead of time that they were in danger?”

“Ellana, we’ve known this was a possibility for months. I can’t plan for _everything_ —”

Ellana heard a low alto chuckle. “Leliana would never say that.”

_Cassandra_. Ellana narrowed her eyes and repeated what she’d said.

She was knocked back into unconsciousness then, and shortly thereafter, awoken by the sound of Skyhold’s bells ringing. 

Josephine burst into her room. “Corypheus and his army are here!”

Ellana gasped and reached for her robes folded over the footboard of her bed.

“No time!” The Ambassador urged. “You have to go now!”

“I have to fight him...naked?” Ellana squeaked.

“Oh come on! I thought you were a professional,” said a mocking voice. “Not the old ‘going to work with no clothes on’ bit. Rather stale, that one.” 

Ellana snorted. “Oh really? And what happens if I don’t go with you?”

“We’ll all die!” Josephine shrieked.

Ellana got back into bed with a yawn and covered her face with her blanket.

There was a loud, ground-shaking rumble of a laugh. “The silly little girl thinks she’s clever. You have _no_ idea who you’re dealing with...”

“Darling, wake up!” 

_Cullen. He sounds worried._

“You’re having a nightmare!” He pressed kisses to her eyelids, her cheeks, her lips. Finally, her eyes opened.

She gasped and shrank from his embrace, her eyes dilated, her breath coming hard and fast.

He moved over to her and stroked the back of her neck. He could kill me so easily, she thought. She turned and stared at him, this powerful man with his imposing form, and she shuddered. “Don’t TOUCH me!”

He reached out for her, hurt and confusion on his face. “Ellana…”

“Don’t come any closer,” she growled, backing into a corner, her hand cracking with Fade energy. 

“Well, shit. Her hand’s going off,” said Sera, appearing on the balcony. “I don’t have any ideas, do you lot?”

“Hold on, I just got caught up,” answered Dorian as he ascended the stairs. “Well _hello_ , Cullen!” He turned to Ellana with a cheeky grin. “My love, I thought you were still a virgin! Have you been holding out on me?”

“She must be one of them ‘technical virgins’, right?” asked Sera.

“Hmm?” asked Cassandra. She cleared her throat and looked up at the ceiling. “What are we looking at, Dorian?” She paused, narrowing her eyes. “You _know_ what I mean.”

“I have _no_ idea. I thought she wasn’t afraid of anything,” he replied in a puzzled tone of voice. 

“Well, we had better figure it out quickly before she does something to traumatize herself,” said Cassandra.

“She already looks traumatized!” Dorian exclaimed. “She’s been out for a while. Maker knows what’s happened before we managed to get here!”

Ellana’s eyes darted around the room. “What are you all doing here?” She took a threatening stance, the same posture she took when she was about to open up a fade rift. But to open a Fade rift in the Fade itself...it might not only open another breach in their world, but it would most definitely kill them all.

“We haven’t much time,” urged Cassandra. “Quick, Dorian! We must find the common thread!”

Dorian’s eyes flickered, as if he were reading a book very quickly. His lips moved slowly as he whispered something in Tevene.

“What’s she afraid of, Dorian?” asked Sera, sounding a little worried.

Dorian hushed her just before his eyes widened with the realization: “ _Fear_.”

“What?” Cassandra balked.

Dorian smiled. “Oh, my little love.” He shook his head and slowly started to walk towards Ellana so he wouldn’t alarm her. “She’s afraid of being afraid,” he said softly, and took her flickering hand in his.

“Dorian!” Cassandra shouted.

“It’s all right,” said Dorian. He turned to his best friend. “Ellana,” he whispered as he pulled her into an embrace and stroked her hair “The Inquisition will not fall, nor will Thedas crumble if you admit to yourself and to those of us that love you, that you’re frightened.”

“Dorian…” Ellana whimpered. “I—I can’t. So many people depend on me. If I should fail against Corypheus—”

“Ssh…” Dorian rocked her in his arms, and as he did so, Ellana’s dreamscape melted away. “We’re not there yet.”

Cassandra approached and wrapped both Ellana and Dorian in her arms. “And we will not let you fall.”

Dorian hummed. “We’ll catch you.”

Sera rushed to them and tackled them all with so much momentum that she almost toppled everyone over. “Group hug!”

The four of them burst into laughter. Meanwhile, Hawke and Stroud looked on.

“They’re _so_ weird,” said Hawke, continuing to stare at the members of the Inquisition. “This is weird shit, am I right? You’re a Grey Warden and this is still weird, right?”

Stroud nodded stoically.

“Wish I’d joined up with them sooner,” Hawke sighed. “I miss group hugs.”

~~~

"Do you think you can fight me? I am your every fear come to life! I am the veiled hand of Corypheus himself! The demon army you fear? I command it. They are bound all through me!"

"Ah, so if we banish you, we banish the demons?" The Divine asked. "Thank you, Every Fear Come to Life."

The Nightmare roared in frustration at being so easily tricked.

The companions continued their journey towards Clarel’s rift.

Dorian stopped in his tracks, causing Sera to bump into him. "Fasta vaas, but that's a _big_ one!" he exclaimed as he spotted the huge Pride demon ahead of them. He looked at Ellana with a twinkle in his eye.

She grinned back.

“Piece of cake,” he said, grinning as he set it on fire.

Then, a second one stepped out from behind the first.

"Well, shit," he groaned.

“See, you _had_ to get cocky…” Ellana began as she started to cast chain lightning in her efforts to keep the Pride demons from striking a charging Cassandra and Stroud with their whips.

“ _Get_ cocky?” Cassandra mocked.

“It’s not cocky if one can…” Dorian laid down a Fire Mine, “shall we say, back it up.”

Sera guffawed, then pulled the cap of her Flask of Frost elixir from it’s bottle with her teeth before chugging it’s contents and tossing it away. “You’re sounding more like Bull every day!”

“Ugh,” Dorian groaned, but it was through a glowing smile. “Maker forfend!”

Meanwhile, Sera had apparently just noticed that things had gone topsy-turvy, with water and stone hovering above their heads and starlight beneath their feet. "Ground should be down. Sky should be high! Figure it out, Fade!"

“It's hard to trust my footing in this place,” agreed Cassandra as she nonetheless brought the first of the Pride demons down. The second one soon followed, thanks to a combined effort of Sera and Stroud.

Once the second of the Pride demons dropped, the companions caught sight of the Spirit of the Divine, and just past her, Clarel’s rift.

"The rift!" Hawke shouted, "We're almost there!"

"How about we all just shut up and run?" Sera cried.

And then, as they rounded a corner, they saw It: Fear Itself. Nightmare, a gargantuan beast with a hundred eyes, a dozen legs, and oozing slime. Sera retched from the sight and smell of It.

The Divine drifted ethereally towards the demon. "If you would," she requested, "please tell Leliana, 'I'm sorry, I failed you too.'"

She used her own essence to strike a crippling blow against Nightmare, and then dissipated into nothingness.

Barriers went up around them and demons flooded the grounds. "You are nothing!" The Aspect of Nightmare, an avatar of the great demon taunted them.

"Wrong! We are the Inquisition!" Cassandra roared as she shattered a despair demon to pieces.

"You cannot stand against me!" jeered The Aspect.

"I think you're the one who should be afraid, demon!" Dorian countered. "We stand united by something you could never understand." He ignited a group of Fearlings about to attack Ellana from behind. "Love!"

The Aspect attempted to torment Ellana, showing her a vision of Cullen choking the life out of her in her mind. "You will die in agony!"

"Love...is stronger than...fear!" she shouted defiantly.

From the sounds Sera was making, the demon was attempting to break her as well.

"I grow fat on your fear!" Nightmare taunted.

A ear splitting scream of defiance answered him. "Starve and die, Fatty!"

They managed to defeat the terror demon that had taken on the Aspect of Nightmare and made a break for the mouth of the rift, but the great demon's massive form blocked their way.

"We need to clear a path!" exclaimed Stroud.

Hawke closed her eyes for a moment, then—"Go! I'll cover you!

“No,” Stroud protested, “you were right. The Grey Wardens caused this. A Warden must—”

"A Warden must help them rebuild,” Hawke insisted. “That's _your_ job! Corypheus is mine.”

Ellana took a ragged breath. More than anything, she wanted to avoid making this call, but she didn’t trust the remaining Wardens not to do anything horrifically stupid without having someone at least semi-competent in charge. 

" _Hawke_..."

Hawke smiled sadly, and squeezed Ellana's hand. “Say goodbye to Varric for me."

She flung herself at Nightmare, her magic blazing. “Sorry, Anders! Sorry, Fenris! Sorry—” she cried as the others made their desperate escape.

~~~

After they'd leapt to safety, Ellana snapped the rift shut behind them with a clenched fist, killing the remaining demons instantly.

"With the Nightmare banished, Corypheus lost both his Warden mages and his demon army,” observed an exhausted Stroud. “But in the stories your soldiers will tell, their Inquisitor broke the spell with the Maker's blessing."

"They need something to believe in," Ellana replied with resignation.

"They do indeed," Stroud concurred.

"Inquisitor,” said Lieutenant Shapeley, “the Archdemon flew off as soon as you disappeared. The Venatori magister is unconscious, but alive. Cullen thought you might wish to deal with him yourself.” He smirked slightly. “As for the Wardens, those who weren't corrupted helped us fight the demons.”

Warden Chernoff marched forward to address her. “We stand ready to help make up for Clarel's tragic...mistake.”

“ _Mistake_?” Ellana snapped. “A child spilling milk is a mistake. Getting scores of Grey Wardens brainwashed or killed in an attempt to raise a demon army isn’t a FUCKING MISTAKE. It’s—”

Cassandra grabbed her by the arm, interrupting her tirade. " _Where_ is the Champion?" she asked. "Hawke is not with us."

Ellana turned around to look at where the rift once was and sighed sadly. She hung her head, then slowly looked up at the crowd of Wardens assembled, glaring. "Hawke _died_ trying to fix your mistakes!" she shouted, fighting to keep her voice from breaking. “Her blood is on _your_ hands!” 

"The Champion is gone," sighed Cassandra. "Oh, Varric," she whispered.

“Stroud, you're the senior surviving Grey Warden,” said Warden Chernoff, “what do we do now?”

Ellana laughed angrily. “Oh, no, no, no. _I_ am the Inquisitor. As of right now, _I_ am giving the orders. Your orders are to stay and do whatever you can to make up for what you've done. Stroud has somehow managed to convince me that you're worth saving. You're still vulnerable to Corypheus and possibly his Venatori, but there are plenty of demons that need killing!”

Cassandra shook her head and questioned Ellana quietly so only she could hear. “After all that, you give them yet another chance?”

Ellana whispered sharply in reply, “Do you actually think I had _any_ other logical choice? I won’t doom Thedas to the Blight for revenge...no matter how _desperately_ I might want it.”

“While they do that, I will report to the Wardens at Weisshaupt,” Stroud reported. “We will not be caught off guard again.”

"Thank you, Your Worship.” Warden Chernoff bowed. He and the rest of the Wardens were to remain in southern Thedas by the grace of her will alone. Ass-kissing was not only not a surprise, but unspokenly required. “We will _not_ fail you."

"Maker watch over your Inquisition," said Stroud. "It has been an honor."

Ellana grabbed the senior Warden by the arm and looked him in the eyes. "Stroud...” she hissed, “ _Earn_ this."

He shook his head sadly. "I could _never_ —"

" _Try_." Ellana then turned her back on the new Warden-Commander and walked away towards the Inquisition encampment.

Varric would have to be told the bad news.

She was the Inquisitor. That was her job.

END OF PART THREE

**Author's Note:**

> Part three of a Four Part series. And this nutritious breakfast.


End file.
